


Vir Lath Sa'vunin

by DreadCubic



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Not Beta Read, Pre-Dragon Age: Origins, death of Mythal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 04:25:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11328558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreadCubic/pseuds/DreadCubic
Summary: Faelwen Lavellan, a commanding officer in the Elven army, is forced into an arranged marriage. Not only out of the fear she would be picked as the next member of the Evanuris, but in an attempt to control the Dread wolf. While Faelwen has to come to terms with almost losing her right to this marriage, she finds herself in the middle of watching the Evanuris crumble around themselves. The war with the Forgotten ones has only gotten worse, and when a member of the Evanuris plans to kill Mythal, Faelwen must put her feelings aside for the sake of the Elven people.





	1. Gara Vir (enter the path)

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo I kind of started writing this while playing with concepts and theories from the DA universe... and the creators only know how, but my girlfriend some how talked me into posting this??? So yeah. Here is my fan ficition to make me feel better while I wallow in Solavellan hell :D
> 
> Some use more Elven than others, so I will post the elven I use in a note at the end. I used the DA wiki app and the translator from Lingo Jam for the DA Elven... So if it's a little off, sorry in advance^^

Looking around the chaos of the battle field she tried to think of what was the quickest way to get rid of her enemies the quickest. Yet in the moment she couldn’t think, which was a first for the young warrior as she watched one of her soldiers get thrown against a rock. Taking a deep breath she remembered something her grandfather had told her at a young age.  
When it doubt, let the dead rise and serve you, Ma Ha’raj, for they shall serve you as they have served me.  
As she moved, the plants around her dying she quickly grabbed a dagger, throwing it with perfect precision to hit them in the shoulder and get their attention as her other hand raise from her side. The tips of her fingers started to turn black as she tilted her head, glaring at the man before her. He in turn was looking at her dumbfounded as the ground around them started to groan and grumble. she knew the dead were moving to rise.  
Dodging the thrust of his sword, just barely rolling out of the way, she moved her hand. It was with that single moment that the dead started to rise around her as she scrabbled to find where her sword had landed in the chaos. Grabbing it quickly as she checked on her soldier who had been attacked. Patting his shoulder before shouting out orders in a tongue most weren't familiar with unless they had been trained in such. It was her words that gave the dead, whose skin seemed to drip off of their bodies like candle wax as they moved, the order to charge the soldiers on the other side.  
Moving quickly away from the wall her soldier had been leaning against she slashed through as many as possible in one blow as she turned, dodging an arrow before rolling to a crouching position. That was when she heard the voices from afar- voices she had heard most of her life. The only thing that cut through them was a familiar war cry she had heard few times while in battle. They were not known for getting into the middle of skirmishes on the borders of Arlathan like the Army was.  
She watched a familiar man jumped off of a nearby cliff, a few of the members of the order, the Emerald Knights, alongside him as he slashed through enemies. His red hair was what drew her to his face to recognize it was truly him, and not just one of her companions who sounded the same. Moving quickly she threw out a barrier over her men before moving again. Charging another target she quickly disarmed them, kicking them to the ground before they could get a good hit on her.  
With a wave of her hand she trapped another soldier by their hands in rifts that glowed red with a tinge of black- a shade that only match that of tainted blood. She could hear their screaming as she ended the life of the soldier below her. Closing her eyes she made another wave of her hand, literally taring them in half as she heard a couple gasps and the screams of people around them. It was only mere moments of having the order on the field along side her men that they were drawing back, leaving the same way they had come into the forests. Her men, she could tell, were inclined to chase after them, but with a sharp command they moved back towards the command post. She on the other hand moved through them, trying to get to the man she had recognized..  
“Send in the throat cutters! I don’t want another shemlen walking out of this grove alive!” she called out to her men as she continued to walk.  
Her gate was something that was made of a grace you would not expect out of a soldier- at least not a seasoned soldier. It showed the confidence that she held within herself- a confidence that was hard not to have with all she had accomplished at such a young age. Yet as she moved it felt as if the weight of everything that just happened was starting to weigh down on her, making her steps heavier than usual and her pace much slower than she had liked.  
“Tired already, Lethalan?” that same familiar voice asked her.  
Before her knelt the same red headed fool she had grown up with most of her life, slitting the throat of a nearby enemy soldier before dropping their lifeless b  
ody back to the groan. The very sight of seeing someone who she had always known to be so carefree do something so against his nature was strange.  
“I did not expect you to help, Lethalin.” she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as he moved to stand.  
“Yes, well, I do not come of my own accord. Mythal thought it would be best if we came out here and ended the skirmish quickly. Not that you couldn’t have done that- where did you learn to summon the armies of the undead by the way? Wait- nevermind; that’s not why I was sent here…”  
“Maeron,” She laughed, pushing teasingly at her cousin’s shoulder, “Get on with it before I have Falon’din guide me to Uthenera!”  
He just gave her a grin as his companions moved alongside her own to quickly make sure the shemlen that were there were deader than a doornail. Yet as he watched them his smile faded and she could almost see the little storm cloud forming over his head as he shook his head. The man she knew was not like this; there was never a moment that he was not smiling and making ill-placed jokes. The amount of seriousness that he had pressed into this moment made her think that someone in the family had either died, or the Gods’ were waging all out war on each other, which was unfortunately not beyond the unthinkable. After all she knew for a fact that Andruil’s people were suffering for her misdeeds as they spoke.  
“Mythal has… requested your presence.” He finally sighed as if it was the end of the world, his arms crossing as he looked away from her.  
“Well, Shit.” She sighed, shaking her head as she rested a hand on her hip, “you make it sound like it's the end of the world, Lethalin.”  
“Because it very well could be… Have you not been paying attention to what has been happening between the Gods? If they knew who and what you were…”  
“She wouldn’t harm me,” she cut him off, “Maeron, whatever it is you think is going to happen won't happen. The worst she will do is give me a slap on the wrist for letting Shemlen get this close- nothing more. Stop worrying yourself to death.”  
He snorted as he shook his head, pulling her into his arms and kissing her temple.  
“For your sake, Lethalan, I hope you are right… but I must be on my way. We are to march on Andruil’s land soon to help with relief efforts- Mythal’s orders. I don’t know when I will see you next cousin, but do stay safe while I am away.”  
“Maeron” She chided gently as he pulled away and moved to walk away from her, “Don't go dying on me out there! Ithilwen will have everyone’s head if anything happens to you!”  
She took a step after his as he raise his hand in the air and waved back at her, not turning at all as his companions moved back to his side. It was soon after that moment that they were gone. It worried her to a degree that he was being sent out into Andruil’s lands- especially with the rumors that were coming out of there and the lands around it. It worried her more that it was order’s from Mythal that were taking him there. After all Elgar’nan had given her the reign of deciding what was justice. She was the one to judge those who needed to be judged, not Elgar’nan- the all-father off the pantheon, and with her moving troops into those lands…? Who knew what would happen next.  
Shaking her head she moved amongst her men, checking the wounded to see how many needed to see a healer and writing down the names of their dead. Mythal could wait; she never really particularly liked when they called upon her by name, sending someone as their messenger. It made her feel as if she needed to rush whatever she was doing for their sake, which was not anything she would ever do for them.  
Hearing something she looked back up, squinting at where she noticed a couple of her men waving people to move and looking worried. It was not a look that her men carried often- especially not in her presence. Most of them felt almost invincible at her side since she did her best to make sure there were as few casualties as possible.  
“What’s going on?” She called to them as they started running themselves back towards the mass of the soldiers encamped there.  
“Abominations- the mages amongst them turned into abominations!” One of them shouted, sprinting right past her as she swore under her breath.  
So they hadn’t retreated? This was definitely going to be something she wouldn’t know how to explain to Mythal or any of the other Gods’ that would now question if she was truly meant to have a position over people in the Army. Standing up she looked at her Lieutenant.  
“Get the wounded out of here; I’ve got this handled.”  
“My lady-”  
“I’ve got this. Get everyone else out of here while you still can.” she hissed, rolling her shoulders as she grabbed her sword and shield again- trying to still her heart.  
Abominations. They were not something that existed amongst the Elves; they had better control of their magic than Human’s did. They had colleges in which one had to study before they could go onto being in the military and circles in which taught those who did not plan on be in the thick of battle the mundane magics that they could use in everyday life. Abominations were the creation of the weak minded- those who would allow themselves to be tainted with the darker thoughts of the spirits that roamed this world.  
Walking away from her soldiers, her body loose and ready for anything, she brought herself into focus as she watched and waited for the creatures to make themselves known.  
Throwing up barriers behind her to keep them from getting to the Eluvian as soon as she saw an abomination she made her moves quick and precise. Her blows were strong enough to throw down any barriers the abominations had surrounded themselves in, and the magic she used was strong enough to take the majority of them down. It wasn’t until she had laid her eyes on a fear abomination that she froze. Fear was her least favorite abomination to deal with, for obvious reasons. No sane person liked having a tainted creature pulling your worst fears out before you to make you freeze in fear.  
Charging she quickly found that whom ever the mage was who had given themselves over to this tainted spirit was stronger than she had expected. It was the only thing that could make sense with the power it had behind it. Not only could see the creatures she feared the most, but also the memories playing around her that were her fear to relive in any sense.  
Run Da’lin. Go to your grandfather. Everything will be alright. Just run.  
The words echoed around her as she closed her eyes, throwing a barrier as thick as she could muster around herself as she took a breath- trying to clear her mind of the memory. It was from after her mother had gotten remarried- after she had thought nothing else in the world could go wrong.  
Oh how wrong she had been...  
“You will die, just as she did- as your father did. You are weak, you are all weak. Your empire will fall.” The words snaked through her ears and almost seemed to sliver their way down her spine as she shivered- opening her eyes back up.  
The Empire in which she fought and bled for would not fall by the hands of Shemlen. The only way it would crumble would be from within- from the wars that were threatening to be waged amongst their people.  
“No.” She growled defiantly, spinning her sword in her hand as she readied herself for whatever it would throw at her since her barrier was about to go down, “This is the day you will fall, abomination. You are only a shadow of the spirit you were. Nothing such as you will defeat my people.”  
It was one last blow from one of the creatures it had sent after her that she moved, cutting them down quickly before moving towards the fear demon.  
The fight that was pushed upon her made her realize why her grandfather had told her she needed more training- that she was not ready for the responsibility the Gods’ were so happy to thrust on her shoulders. Gasping for air, feeling as if her lungs were on fire she tried to strike it down so many times, and failed almost every time as she moved around the field trying to stay away from its attacks. Letting out a scream as he struck her down she moved to get back up, rolling out of the way as fire exploded where she had once been laying.  
Getting up quickly she noticed where her sword had landed in her fall. It was too close to him. If she wanted to make it out of this alive there was no way she would be able to use her sword. It would be magic against magic. Not something she particularly liked to depend on.  
“When you fail, da’lin they will make you tranquil. You will have failed as a mage- as an Elf.” it purred in her ear, making her jump and let out another scream, as she turned- throwing ice at where it had been.  
Gasping as her eyes watered she looked around. There was no sign of the Abomination, which struck more fear in her than it should have. Could it have made its way to the Eluvan?  
No. It couldn’t have.  
She wouldn’t let it.  
That’s when it reappeared mere inches from her face, which cause her to jump back as she snarled. There was no way she could let it win. Her people were counting on her. They would have enough to deal with when the God’s finally decided to stop playing nice with one another. An Abomination trying to hide amongst them? That was the last thing they needed.  
“Fen’Harel ma halam!” She growled, letting the familiar tingle come to her fingertips as she close her eyes- the very tips of her fingers turing's a deep red and moving up her arms- the area just behind its turning black in its wake.  
The magic she was using was something she was taught to use as a last resort. Blood magic was always used as a last resort, as it tore you away from the people and away from the fade. Human’s would believe it the resolve of a weak mind, but the people saw it as a sign of desperation- a soldier’s last cry before giving themselves for the sake of the people.  
She watched as the shemlen within the abomination almost started to come back through- its own fear separating it from the creature it had created. Letting out a war cry she had known most of her life during her training she could feel it seeping from her eyes as she moved- tearing straight through the demon, her hand gripping at the skull of the shemlen who had been foolish enough to give themselves away to such a spirit.  
“Na din’an sahlin, shemlen.” she growled, her grip tightening as she felt the skull start to crack under the pressure of her fingers.  
The screams that escaped the shemlen made shivers run down her spine- at least down the part of her spine that was still attached to the mental part of her that understood what magic she was using was wrong.  
As soon as she felt the soul leave them she dropped their lifeless body. The darkness leaving her eyes and her extremities as she coughed and gasped for air. The world around her was finally starting to gain light again as she dropped to her knees. Panting as she closed her eyes she knew that she had won, but she felt as if she had lost some part of her in doing so… she knew some part of her was gone, whether it be years of her life or part of whom she was amongst the people.  
Finally moving again, shakily forcing herself to stand, she made her way back to the Eluvian. Once she was through she met the eyes of her people, who had been waiting for her to come through.  
“Commander, you look ill,” One of them stated, rushing to her side, “Let me help you.”  
Raising her hand she stopped them, shaking her head without a word as she moved through the soldiers who had been waiting. She muttered soft words, more to herself as she continued to walk to get to the next eluvian that would lead them to Arlathan. She needed to see Mythal- she needed to rest more so, but Mythal would not wait for her patiently. Not anymore. She had already taken too long out on that field.  
“Commander?”  
“I’m fine.” She finally managed loud enough that her men could hear her, “I just need rest. Send for the next scouting party. You have all earned an early day off… The Shemlen shouldn’t be coming back any time soon.”  
“Yes, Commander.” They nodded as they moved alongside her.  
Trudging forward she tried to keep her focus as she moved past her soldiers and rested her hand against the Eluvian. Where had they even come from? It was like a shot in the dark that no one could have ever expected. Of course the humans were no strangers to them; many Elves had traveled to Val Roux and few had been let into Arlathan for trade… but never in all of her life had she expected a group to try and attack their borders. Nor had she expected a group of the Shemlen mages to give their lives away so easily.  
“Commander-” She heard yet another familiar voice as she looked up to see one of her other soldier’s approaching her, “Are you alright? They told me you went after the Abomination on your own…”  
Smiling gently she looked at him before looking down. Creators she didn’t want to lie to him. He was probably the only person in her company that knew when she was lying… though she was terrible at lying in the first place.  
“I don’t feel great, but I’ll be fine after I visit Hahren.” She shrugged off as she looked back up at him.  
This wasn’t a lie. After all her Hahren would know exactly how to fix this; he always did.  
“Yeah, but I heard rumors Mythal wants to see you. Are you going to make it there?”  
“If I don’t I’m sure you will hear about it,” She sighed, shaking her head as she crossed her arms, “After all no one in this city knows how to keep their mouth shut… but I will be fine, vhenan.”  
“You say that, Faelwen, but your version of fine usually means something is wrong.”  
“You say that about all the women in your life.” She argued back, pushing at his shoulder teasingly as she started walking again, “I have to go talk to Mythal and see what in the creator's name I did wrong.. I’ll come find you if I’m not dead.”  
Before he could say another word she moved, her body changing around her as she took to the air- flecks of gold surrounding her before she took the shape of a Northern white faced Owl.Unlike most Elves she had been trained as a shapeshifter. It was something that came natural to those of her blood line, which was the only reason she was trained.  
Looking down below she watched as he waved at her, yelling something as she glided over the bodies that were standing around that Eluvian. It was mainly soldiers and healers, but there were some civilians who were looking for their loved ones. It made her wonder how many of the dead she had names for belong to those down there… shaking it of she moved quickly, landing down in front of the Eluvian that would take her to Mythal. The door itself was within the main center of Arlathan near the market district- one of her favorite places in all of Arlathan.  
Taking a deep breath she pressed her hand against the Eluvian and stepped through. She had no idea what was awaiting her in Mythal’s temple. Nor did she really want to know. After all Mythal was the only one of the Evanuris that was allowed to pass judgement. It made the idea that she had asked for her specifically even more frightening… only the creators knew what Mythal wanted or what she could have done wrong.  
Once inside the temple she heard the familiar whispers that moved, moving around her as she walked deeper within the temple. She hated this place because of the whispers; the longer she was within the temple the louder they got. It almost made her feel as if she was losing her mind.  
“My lady,” An elf approached her, looking scared as they lowered their head, “Mythal is waiting for you… Atish’all Vir Abelasan.”  
Biting her lip she nodded, moving forward past her agents. They all gave her the creepsl they were just as cryptic as their leader was… After all the Elven people loved metaphors as much as anyone else it seemed. Taking a deep breath as she looked at the door she knew that she couldn’t just enter the stupid chamber. Like every other god in the pantheon they had something you had to pass before you could enter. Mythal’s, in her opinion, was by far the easiest. Walking along the roots of the trees she headed back to the first trial. It didn’t take long for her to walk about the paved path to light the square- to walk where those before her had walked as required to enter. Moving onto the next ones she did them as if it were clockwork.  
After all her Hahren had taught her how to quickly do all the trials; he knew that she would cross paths with most of them. How he knew? Her father had once told her it was in the blood… that all of their line must know the path. It was why, after he had died, that her Hahren took her under his wing to teach her everything she needed to know- including those blasted trials.  
Once the trials were all done she walked to the doors of the chamber, the whisper’s almost like shouting to her as she closed her eyes- pushing the door open. If it kept up like this much longer she was going to gauge her own ear drums out. It took mere moments to walk into the hall, taking the back way to the Well of Sorrows where Mythal was supposedly waiting for her.  
Moving down the stairs and towards the well she closed her eyes, still walking. At this point it was almost as if it was screams to her, which was giving her a throbbing headache. Not that Mythal would have cared what her temple did to others. Most everyone else here seemed to be at peace.  
“You actually came,” She heard Mythal muse as she opened her eyes back up and looked at the massive Eluvian behind the well, “It is good to see you in one piece after the attack I heard we had on the borders.”  
“Nothing we haven’t trained for,” She sighed, crossing her arms as her eyes traveled down the Eluvian and to the well, “But that’s not why I am here- to my knowledge at least. What is it that you want out of me?”  
“Coming to conclusions quickly?” She heard Mythal almost mock, which made her blood boil, “your father and I have spoken, da’len, and we have an opportunity for you that you can’t turn down.”  
Those words rang in her head as she thought about how much of a devote follower her adoptive father was to Mythal. It made her cringe thinking he probably sold her life away for Mythal’s purpose- whatever that would be. It made her feel sick to think he would do it so easily without her approval.  
“Opportunity?”  
“Of course, Da’len,” Mythal smiled, moving closer to her, “What do you know of Fen’Harel?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma Ha’raj - my ruler  
> Lethalan - blood sister  
> Shemlen - human  
> Lethalin - blood brother  
> Uthenera - Elven after life  
> Da'len - child  
> Fen’Harel ma halam - dread wolf ends you  
> Na din’an sahlin, shemlen - Your death has come, human  
> hahren - teacher/elder  
> Vhenan - heart, term of enderment used for someone you love  
> Atish’all Vir Abelasan - enter the path of the Well of Sorow


	2. Hahren

Staring at Mythal in awe she had no idea how to react or what to say. Why would her father chose such a thing for her? Why would he do it without consulting her? As she looked past Mythal at the well she could hear the screams finally start to calm back down to the usual whispers she was use to in the farthest parts of the temple away from the well. That was the only thing that was keeping her calm as she thought about her new fate. It was as if no one knew her or what she would want with her life. 

Fen’Harel.

Of all people.

Fen fucking Harel.

“No.” She stated, her voice flat as she looked back at Mythal, “there is no way I am marrying a supposed god.”

“It’s an honor; he is  my chosen, Da’len.”

“Which just makes it that much worse,” She countered, shaking her head, “I don’t know what game you are playing at, but you are about to take everything I have from me. My father now has control over what I can and can’t do… I am not about to become some trophy wife to a false god because my father is doing what you want.”

Mythal smiled as she looked at her. The smile was unnerving- just as it had been the first time she had ever met the woman. Shivering mentally she took a deep breath. She was honestly scared of what Mythal had to say to such things.

“You father has already agreed, which means you  are going to be bound to Fen’Harel, Da’len. Just try and make the best of it; it’s only for appearances.”

“Appearances,” She sighed, “I’m not going to make it look like we are in love or that I even want to be with him. The elven people will see it for what it is- a crap engagement forcing two people together who want nothing to do with each other.”

That was all she had to say as she turned and started to leave. She really had nothing else she could say to the woman in front of her; Mythal had made it clear that there was no way she was getting out of this. That of course didn’t mean that she would not fight this with everything she was. It was in her blood to fight.

Jogging down the steps that she had used to get to the chamber her heart was racing. She acted as if nothing was wrong. There was nothing wrong in the eyes of mythal after all. So why not let her think she won her game? At least for now until she could petition another of the gods to end this.  If any of them would be willing to take her side.

Hahren. 

She could go to him.

The idea of it made her smile as she moved, putting her hand against the Eluvian and walked out towards the markets. He would talk to Mythal for her. At least she hoped he would. Moving through the crowd she took in the sights and smells- smiling more. There were dancers, people making fresh food, and people talking and laughing all about. It was as if nothing the gods were doing or the people of the outside world were doing could affect them at all. Like their lives would go on if the outside world crumbled.

It reminded her of when she was young… of when her Hahren would walk with her through the market and tell her crazy stories of when he was in her position- a mighty general of the Elven people. Even back then it was as if their world was immovable and the people believed that nothing would change… but during that time she had seen things the same way. Everything was perfect unchanging. Her Hahren had told her not to join the military; he warned her it would change the way she saw things.. Yet she had been determined.

As she watched the people move and laugh, her passing them all slowly as she moved to the next Eluvian she needed, she wondered what it would be like for them if their eyes were opened. She didn’t handle it well at all. How could anyone? To believe your people were perfect and that the world around you was perfect… and then to watch it all come crashing down around you. It was probably the least perfect group of people she knew of.

“Miss Lavellan!” She heard someone call as she turned her head in the direction, “Miss Lavellan, how are you today?”

She smiled as she noticed who it was. The woman had been someone whom she had gone to quite often; she was her adoptive grandmother from her father’s side. Moving through the crowd to the stand that she ran she moved behind it and gave her a hug.

“I’m good, Mamaela,” she smiled as she kissed her cheek, “There was an attack on the north east border near the Eluvian to get to Andruil’s temple… but I got it taken care of.”

“That’s my da’panelan,” she cooed, holding her tighter, “You are definitely your father’s child… I still remember him playing out in the fields with his papae- wooden sword in hand…”

Smiling she kissed her grandmother's cheek again, hugging her tighter.

They both missed her father; he was the light of their life. Her grandfather of course was the closest thing to that she had now, but her father had been her everything before he died- before he had been hunted down for who he was. 

“It’s in the blood it seems,” She mused as she finally pulled away as a customer came to the stand. Moving she smiled at them, “what can we do ya for?”

The man before her looked familiar. From where? She had no idea… but he was familiar. As if she had met him before. His grey-blue eyes stared at her, amused as he smirked slightly.

“I’ve heard your grandmother makes these amazing cakes… I came to try one.” The man admitted as she crossed his arms.

Beaming she looked back at her grandma.

“Mamaela, do you have any more of the cake mamae always loved?”

“The one with the carmel center?” The woman asked, smiling as she moved behind her and grabbed a small box, perfectly wrapped, “I had been saving the last one for you since they are your favorite… but it is for you to give away if you would like.”

Pausing she accepted the box, giving a weak smile. The last one. They had only been her favorite because they were her mothers, and she had always loved to steal a bite away from her when she wasn’t looking. It was the memories that made her love it- though the cake itself was her grandmother’s best seller.

“I think you’ll like this one,” She stated confidently as she held out the box, “if you don’t like it, I’ll buy you the next one.”

“Really?” The man’s smirk grew as he accepted the box, “and how will I hold you to this?”

“If I’m not here, come find me in the barracks; someone will be able to find me for you.”

“Then it’s a deal, da’len.” the man smiled, paying her for the cake before leaving.

She gave him a smile back before looking at her grandma, who was smiling. Why was she smiling? Her grandmother was a very happy woman, but she only smiled at things that deserved such attentions. To see her smiling at something such as this made her question what was going on. Raising her eyebrow she crossed her arms.

“What?”

“Oh nothing da’len,” She chuckled, moving to grab what she needed to make more for the day, “your Hahren is waiting for you, Da’len.. It is best not to keep him waiting.”   
Her lips moved in protest, but she saw the look on her grandmother's face- the one telling her not to argue with her. Nodding she moved, kissing her temple before moving out from behind the stand and back through the market and towards the back streets.

The houses along the streets were old, rustic compared to the rest of Arlathan that seemed to glow and shimmer. It was much like the man whose temple it all lead to. Dark, rustic, and struck fear into the weariest of hearts. Yet it emanated this feeling of peace- tranquility. It was why she loved the area so much- loved the temple in which it lead to.

As she moved she watched as the children played, avoiding a specific area around the houses, She knew it was the Var Bellanaris- the burial ground for their dead… so to speak. After all, it wasn't truly death for elves; It was passing  into Uthenera. The Var Bellanaris was sacred ground to the Elves, something to not mess with. Most of these burial grounds were in the area that falon’Din’s followers lived; it was all technically his land to do with it as he pleased.

Smiling as she thought about it all she jogged up the steps that lead to the Eluvian, pressing her hand to it as she felt her fingers tingle. It was something they always did as she moved to open the Eluvian to Falon’Din’s temple. Moving through the Eluvian, the tingling feeling slowly disappeared as she came through the other side. Her favorite part about the entire trek through the part of Arlathan that some of his followers lived was coming through the Eluvian. How could it not be with what awaited her?

On the other side of it sat the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. It even rivaled those in the Arbor Wilds that were dedicated to Mythal. Even with the gravestones that were scattered about the scenery was beautiful and almost felt as if the world would be out of place without them. The place in which she stood, the Eluvian behind her, was just a small spot- water moving past her, and even some water was under her feet trickling down the rocks.

In front of her was the sight she loved the most. Even though the field behind and around the Eluvian was beautiful; it was covered in purple flowers and many other planets. There was a tree that seemed to climb for miles, toad stools along the side making it look as if it had a stairway to the top. The branches stretched out far and wide, the leaves a vibrant green. There were other trees around it, but none caught her eyes as much as the first tree you would see coming through the Eluvian. Especially with the roots being exposed.

Walking across the grass towards the tree, the path to the temple nearby she smiled. She could have spent hours here, but she was sure her Hahren would send a search party if he was expecting her, which was the last thing she wanted. More than anything she wanted to disappear in this forest and pretend her conversation with Mythal didn’t happen. After all she could have been more than content to live in this forest alone with only the spirits and animals to be her friends.

Taking her first steps along the path she moved quickly. As she moved along the path it didn't take long for the beautiful sight she had seen on her way to turn darker; the trees in the area were closer together, taking away almost all light. Yet along her path the plants started to glow, a bioluminescence one would not expect out of such small shrubbery. As she moved even further in the trees finally started to disperse until they all disappeared- except those far off in the distance along the cliff side. Along the path itself though was something most would not expect out of any other of the Evanuris- a skeletal structure, the ribs acting as a cage to keep you in. Upon further investigation of the yellowed bone, withered by time, you would realize it was the spinel structure of none other but a high dragon. For nothing else alive was big enough to cover the expanse of the chasm below.

Moving through it, the stone path appearing as she moved along she noticed the birds flying overhead- a sight that was not uncommon for this area. Even if it looked dead there was so much life that many did not see; most creatures of this forest were not accustom to anyone but those who had made it their own. Once she was finally out of their cage, she moved along the cobble path and stepped to move within the cave, the last stretch before the Eluvians’ that lead to their separate temples.

The caves held the same darkness as the forest, the plant life lighting it up the best it could. Roots were sprawled across the floors and walls of the caves. Vines were also strung across from wall to wall, giving it a creepier feel then it actually had. Looking ahead she kept moving, ignoring the dragonlings she could hear in a different part of the cave. As she moved closer to the Eluvian she noticed the light that came off of them, which let her know she hadn’t gotten herself lost like she always feared she would.

Coming to the two eluvians she stared at them both. The twin souls of the Pantheon, Dirthamen and Falon’din, housed the eluvian to their temple in the same place. After all they wanted to be able to get to one another quickly in the rare occasion they were not together. Stepping through the Eluvian on the right hand side she paused, realizing it had been reprogramed. Taking a deep breath, almost gasping, she paused in awe.

Why would he reprogram it to lead people there?

Looking at the Adahl Sal’shiral she blinked. This was the very center of the temple- it was Falon’din’s foci. It was one of the only places he did not allow anyone- not even his brother, his twin soul. Moving toward it she took in another breath- breathing better than she had in her entire life. Much like the plants outside the Adahl Sal’shiral was glowing, yet it was white in color unlike the other planets that were glowing various colors of blue and green. Its roots were nimble, almost too perfect looking, as they ran into the dark dirt around it. Noticing the stream nearby she smirked slightly.

She had seen beauty within his temple, but this… this was a completely different form of beauty... This was even more beautiful than the inside of Mythal’s temple.

“I was wondering if you were going to actually come, Da’len.” She heard the voice come from behind her, sounding sweet like honey.

Turning to look at him she smiled, shaking her head as she watched him rest his hand against the Eluvian- reprogramming it, she assumed, as he sighed, looking over at her.

“I had to talk to Mythal first…”

“So I’ve heard… has she given you news?”

“You knew?” She asked, feeling her skin go cold as she blinked.

“Only through rumor; Dirthamen had been asking around about it since mother had been talking to your father about bonding ceremonies and who would do it. He is, apparently, leaving it up to you. I was thinking we could do it here with one of my high keepers. After all you practically live in the temple.” He mused gently as he moved away from the Eluvian and walked over to her, ushering her over towards the tree. Following in silence she thought about it. Her and the Dread Wolf? The idea made her shiver as she frowned. The temple was probably exactly where she would want to do it, though she would prefer it if it was Falon’din who did the ceremony instead of his high keeper. That may not be an option though knowing how Mythal and they other Evanuris were.

“You don’t want to marry, do you?” Falon’din asked, not sounding surprised at all, “Just like your father, Da’lin… he never wanted anything to hold him back, but if I know anything about Fen’Harel you will have nothing that will impede your wants as soon as you are bound. Idhrenian will be an issue though… That man has wanted nothing more than to control you.” Falon’Din practically hissed as he sat down, his back against the tree.

She joined him as she leaned into his side.

“Which is the last thing I want… if he gets his way my life is basically forfeit. I’ll have to give up everything I have worked for; he wants me to be shaped into something I will never be…”

She paused, taking a breath as she closed her eyes and just listened to the sound of his heart beat. Why was she so freaked out? She knew that everything she worked for would be gone, but if Falon’Din was right, the Dread Wolf wouldn’t keep it that way for long. That of course was only based off of what he still know of the man who was more a hermit than the rest of the Evanuris.

It was his words that was giving her hope that maybe her worst fears wouldn’t come true.

“Do you want to go take a hot bath? I can draw some glyphs to help you with the stress if you would like. I would just need to go mix new paints.” Falon’Din finally commented in her silence, earning a smile out of her.

“I’d like that, Hahren.”

He nudged her slightly, smiling as he watched her get up. She smiled back before walking to the other Eluvian across the room. She knew it would lead back to the main part of the temple, which was the only way to get to his private quarters. Stepping through the mirror she looked around and smiled, not surprised at how many people were within his temple. Much like herself, many people found his temple to be a safe haven- or as safe it could get when he was almost at war with the Evanuris-  Anduril specifically.

Inside his temple there was this sense of peace that no one could really explain. She always chalked it up to the soft hum and the pulse that came through that almost everyone could feel. It came from the very center of his temple, which was mostly outdoors with building around its center square. Now she knew it was because that underneath the pulsing lights that were there was the Adahl Sal’shiral. It was from there that the soft blue lights that covered the temple came from- along with the plant life that was around them. 

Moving through the crowd to one of the smaller building off to the side, near the main hall of the temple where people paid their respects to Falon’din, she walked through its smaller rooms to find the Eluvian he always used to get to where he stayed. Unlike most of the Evanuris, who had their own strongholds to live in outside their temples, Falon’din chose to live within his temple’s grounds; it was where he and his brother felt most at peace. After all their temple’s were almost combined. All it took was going through one of two Eluvians and you were within the other temple.

Stepping inside the next eluvian she ignored the strange looks from the guards at the Eluvian. They always gave her a strange look; they were never sure as to why she was allowed back there or why she would go to his private wing to the Temple. To most people’s knowledge only Dirthamen was allowed within those halls.

“Hahren,” she heard one of the guards address him as he walked behind her, “is she supposed to-”

“Yes, I sent her that way.” She listened to his sigh as the mirror closed behind her.

Chuckling she jogged up the stairs, heading straight for where his room was at. Taking a deep breath as she finally made it to the top she rolled her shoulders. Just like it was down with his foci she was able to breath easier in his private area. She never understood why, especially since it wasn’t as close to the tree as most of his temple was. Shrugging it off she started walking to the back of his room as she started to peel her armor off and set it down carefully.

Nearby she could hear Dirthamen speaking to his brother- his twin soul. About what? She had no idea. The man was too secretive to talk loud enough that she would be able to hear them. Not that she could blame him with the issues most of them had with other members of the Evanuris. She had heard the tales- the horror stories- and it was why they had both taught her not to look at them like gods. Trying to listen in for a moment she gave up when she couldn’t understand the dialect he was speaking.

Taking off the last pieces of her armor she took off her leathers and underclothes quickly before sinking into the rock bath that Falon’Din had near the balcony. As soon as she was inside she used her magic to fill the bath with water and heat it up to her liking. The moments were like clock work; she almost always was here when she was stressed out venting to him as if it was something normal for her to do.

“Ma Da’len?” She heard Falon’din ask just as she closed her eyes, “I’-I’ll be right back.. I need to go downstairs for a moment..”

“Is everything alright, Hahren?”

“Perfectly fine, Da’len.” The voice was different more like velvet.

Moving to look at the man who spoke she blinked. He had never taken extreme interest in being around her; he was too busy running his spy network and dragging his brother away for various reasons, “How are you feeling, Da’len?”

“I- well… I’ve had better days.”

“Ah yes, betrothed to the Dread Wolf…” He murmured, a weak smile on his face, “My brother was always closer to him than I ever was… so forgive me if my opinions of him are not very high. If it’s any consolation your Hahren and I voted against it.”

“They took a vote?” She asked, surprised.

The Evanuris never seemed to willingly vote on anything any more. As the stories went that Falon’din had told her as a child that ended when a darkness overtook his father- Elgar’nan, the all father of the Elven Pantheon. The transformation took less than twenty four hours. She had been told about how they were voting on who to give the power of the Evanuris to- a King or Queen to rule over the Elven people so that the system would not be as corrupt. Yet the next day he came in, his eyes a different color, the way he held himself with confidence an entirely different stance of pride- and his aura. Falon’din had described it as dead but alive- that there were small flickers of light, but even those were faint and covered in the darkness.

“Yes, mother’s idea. Elgar’nan was not happy with it, but she didn’t care… he thinks you are becoming too strong- he is afraid that one of us, my brother specifically, will pick you as their chosen. Mother seems just worried that the people will raise you to such heights on their own as they did most of us.. Most of the Evanuris fall on either side. Only Falon’din, June, and I disagreed with the other gods. Fen’Harel stayed impartial, but he did vote against the engagement. Unfortunately five of those ass hole voted for it…”

She blinked, sinking deeper into the water as she tried to wrap her head around this. They voted on her betrothal because most of them were afraid that she would join their ranks? That was absurd. That would never happen. Nor did she ever want it to happen. What was strange to her was the fact that they voted to marry her to a member of the Evanuris. What was the point to it? Were they trying to drag him down?

It was a general rule the the members of the evanuris were only allowed to be with people of certain blood- of a certain caliber. She did not exactly qualify since no one but her, Falon’din, and Dirthamen knew her blood lines…

“Why?” She finally asked as she heard Falon’din walking up the steps, “Why would they be afraid of me? I’m just a simple elf…”

“A simple elf who knows how to use magic that only members of the Evanuris know how to use. You are already as strong as a couple of the Evanuris, Da’len.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it… I am not that strong.”

“Says the elf who perfected my technique of drawing on their own life force, without the use of blood, to perform magic… Don’t think that we didn't see that performance this morning. Mythal had devised it as a test to see if we should really be afraid of you. It was what solidified the votes.”

“Wh-what?” She stammered as she sat up, moving to look at Falon’din.

A test? This morning was all a test? She lost good men and woman under her ranks because they wanted to see if they should be afraid of her or not? She felt her skin boiling as her eyes started to well with tears. They were damned if they thought she was going to go through with this- especially with the measures Mythal took to test her.

“How do I fight this?” She finally asked as Dirthamen moved, allowing Falon’din to take his seat, “ Can I fight this?”

“Da’len, I would not fight this,” Dirthamen sighed, closing his eyes, “I have already seen the outcome of both… for the safety of the Elven people, you will accept this betrothal. Fen’harel is just as displeased with the situation, so you will need not worry about this being a normal betrothal. I do not believe he has an interest in being this anyone actually..”

“You know that’s bullshit,” Falon’din sighed, a hissing noise coming out of his throat as he dipped his pen in the ink, pressing his finger the the sharp point afterwards to make sure it wasn't dull, “he has eyes for one person, and he will never have her. He will do this because he has to… so expect to has a pretty long chain for freedom. The only chain you will have is from that idiot you call father.”

“He is my father, Hahren… he is the one who helped raise me after papae died..”

“Yes, well, that doesn't make him our blood or make me approve of him. You father was an idiot for asking you mother to remarry. You would have been fine in our care.” He mumbled, pressing the pen to her skin, which made her twitch slightly, “Relax, Da’len. Otherwise this will actually hurt.”

Taking a breath she closed her eyes as he started to draw across her skin. Feeling the needle move a couple of layers down she clenched her jaw, ignoring it as she thought about what was to come. She wanted to fight it with everything she was… but Dirthamen spoke as if he knew something she did not. That, of course, wouldn’t be unheard of. The twin souls of the Pantheon were known for being able to see things others could not- including the future. It usually took both of them to piece together anything from their dreams.

Should she listen to him? Or fight back? All she could think of in the decision was the fact her father would probably dictate that she could no longer hold her position in the Elven military. Everything she fought for would be gone. Her legacy, her parents legacy, would be gone due to a marriage proposal. The idea of it made her sick.

“Hahren, there is someone here to see Faelwen.” A servant stated gently, lowering their head as Falon’din looked over.

“Send them up then; I have yet to finish with the glyph… and Alyse? Go home… you have been up for too long now… You need time to sleep and be with you family.”

“Yes, Hahren.” She smiled, bowing again before leaving back down the stairs.

Moving to sit up slightly she felt Falon’din hand touch her shoulder..

“What did I say about moving, Da’len?” he chided slightly, a smirk on his face as he shook his head, “You listen about as well as your father ever did…”

She laughed, closing her eyes back up as she heard someone moving up the stairs. Taking a deep breath she prepared herself for whom she thought it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mamaela - grandmother  
> Dal' panelan - little warrior  
> Adahl Sal’shiral - tree of life


	3. Vara Min An (Leave this place)

She had hoped for her Vhenan. Hell, her father would have also been a better option- or, creators preserve her, Elgar’nan. Anyone would have really been better than the person standing before. Dirthamen’s reaction of trying to get her covered up as quickly as possible gave it away. Had it been anyone else they wouldn’t have cared; the people they would have expected were either family, or someone who had already seen her naked. That’s something she knew based on the conversations she had had with her Hahren before all of this…  
“To what do we owe the pleasure, lethalin?” Falon’din asked, the irritation showing in his voice.  
Tensing as she closed her eyes, Faelwen felt surprised that her Hahren was continuing with the glyph under the stress she could feel radiating off of him. She had no idea what had happened between the two of them, but it seemed best to her not to bring it up. After all there was a needle to her back, close to her spine, that could press in further at any moment.  
“That’s a good question,” Dirthamen stated, his ghostly white hands pulling away from the curtain he had just put up to shield her, “I thought you were in Minrathous doing whatever it is that you do.”  
Soft lips pulled to a curl against his pale, freckled skin as he looked between the twin and towards her sitting behind the curtain. The smirk he held reminded her of a wolf, a grin only a predator would give as he was watching his prey. Even the slightest sight of it she caught peeked around the curtain sent shiver down her spine, her blood pumping fast enough against her veins that she could feel it in her temples.  
Why was the Dread Wolf here?  
She had heard of his cunning- him spinning tales to make people believe what he wanted them to believe. So what story would he tell them? What would he make them believe his visit was for? After all he was likely supposed to be doing something for Mythal if he was coming back from Minrathous.  
“I returned when Mythal made the final decision to have me bound. If I am to lose my freedom due to a marriage, I would like to at least meet the woman before I am bound.”  
“Good excuse,” Falon’din hissed, pulling the pen, still dropping of blood and ink, away from her skin, “Let me guess, mother sent you? You were never able to make a decision on your own, Dread Wolf.”  
“Says the man who gave up his only child, supposedly against his will, because his lover told him to.”  
Tensing more she curled up, pulling further away from his sight as she tried to control her breathing and her heart rate. What was she hearing? Did the Dread Wolf know?  
No.  
He couldn’t.  
Her hahren knew better than to tell such things to anyone. So how was it that he knew about Falon’din’s son?  
“That’s enough,” Dirthamen stated before her Hahren could answer back, “Unless you came on actually important business, we will have to ask you to leave.”  
“Wait,” She sighed, her voice shaky as she moved to get out of the tube and wrap herself up, “why can’t we meet proper-,” she paused as she finally got a good look at his face and felt her skin go cold, “-ly… I… Did you like the cake?”  
As her question came out she felt her face flush, her cheeks turning a rosy red against her porcelain skin. Taking a deep breath, counting to ten, and letting it out she looked over him with her ghost blue eyes. She hadn’t really taken in his features earlier when she had met him. Yet now he stood before her, dressed in proper formal attire. It was almost as if he meant it when he said he was coming to meet her… Looking down at his hands she noticed the little box she had handed him earlier, still in hand with a perfectly tied pink bow.  
“I was rather hoping I could try it with you, since it is your favorite.”  
“How do you-” Falon’din started to snarl as he took a step towards the dread howl, his needle turned in his head so he could stab with it if the need arose.  
“I was at the shop when he bought it, Hahren.” She interrupted as she bit her lip.  
She had sold the Dread Wolf her favorite caramel cake- her favorite frilly little cake. Did he buy it for her? Or was he truly just looking for something to eat? Actually, she didn’t want to know the answer to that question. Not now- not ever. All she wanted was for him to leave. Really for him to have never come looking for her… that way she could have stayed relaxed with her Hahren, just gone home to the barracks, and snuggled up to her Vhenan and pretended like none of this was happening.  
“So, Da’lin,” The Dread Wolf spoke, his smirk growing wider as he kept his blue eyes locked with hers, “Shall we have a proper meeting? Or would you like me to leave? I’m not beyond eating this without you.”  
That comment earned a snort out of her as both Dirthamen and Falon’din gave her a weird look. It was as if they did not see the humor she did in him making such a quip. It was almost as if he was trying to find a way with words to get her to agree to going with him. She had half a mind to; this may be the only time she really got to meet the man she was to be bound to… yet she wanted to just sent him on his way and go back to what she was doing. Relaxing and having her Hahren give her the one therapy she loved more than anything: needle and ink to the skin.  
“How about this… we meet in two hours?” She asked gently, holding the towel tightly to herself, “Hahren has not finished drawing his glyphs, and I would like to be able to wear something other than my armor.”  
“Two hours,” he agreed, his smirk turning to a smile as he took a step forward, holding the box out to her, “In the meantime, will you keep this safe for me?”  
“Safe,” she snorted accepting the box and setting it to the side, “I’ll meet you at the entrance to the temple?”  
“It’s a date.”  
The words were stated so carelessly and so silky that they past through her ears with her almost not even rigistering what he said until her skin reacted. The skin of her cheeks going a darker red as the tips of her ears started to tinge red. Before she could snarl back a quip about it not being a date the Dread Wolf was already gone. Clenching her jaw as she removed her towel, moving to get back in the tub she wondered if she had done the right thing.  
After all this was the Dread Wolf they were talking about. The only member of the Evanuris that could walk amongst the Elven pantheon and the Forgotten Ones… it was his ability to do this that earned him a bad reputation and made her wonder if she was crazy for accepting to be alone with him. It didn’t bring her anymore ease as she tried to soak in the hot water that her Hahren was cursing his name- everything about him. Dirthamen had few words to say, but still agreed and listened to his brothers ramblings, much to her dismay.  
Closing her eyes, leaning forward so her elbows were on her knees, she let her mind drift off into thought. The only thing she could think of was her skirmish from earlier with the Tevinter mages. As her mind wandered, question after question crashing her thoughts, she tensed. Was that why Fen’Harel was in Minrathous? Was he the one who got those mages and the soldiers to their borders- near Andruil’s Eluvian? As this question crossed her mind she thought back to the words the abomination had uttered to her.  
Shivering a she moved to hug her knees she ignored her Hahren hiss at her to stop moving. What if it was right? Wait if she did fail? Would Mythal have her made tranquil- or worse? If she got to strong… if she scared them enough that the other’s in the Evanuris thought her too dangerous? Her eyes began to water as she thought about it, goosebumps covering her skin.  
“All done, Da’lin,” Falon’din stated gently, resting a gently hand against her stone cold skin, “I’ll have one of my servants fetch you some clothes..”  
She paused, looking at the glyph in the mirror over her shoulder. She couldn’t help bite her lip as she shook her head. Did she really want to go to this meeting with the dread wolf? She had an hour to decide.  
“I can go grab something, Hahren; your agents and servants don’t need to help me. They are here for you- not me.”  
“They are here to help my family, da’lin,” He chided, patting her back before he moved to dispose of his needle and of the inks, “what will you have them grab for you?”  
“You should know I keep very little around; I’m a soldier. Not a pampered elven noble like my stepfather would like me to be..”  
Not that she thought less of those Elves who chose to have the world, she just assumed it was best that she had little in her situation. Between being a commanding officer in the Elven Military and her blood… she knew that she would die young. It wasn’t a worst case scenario. It was a fact. With who her parents were there would no doubt be assassination attempts once they found out her lineage. So she felt it best to keep as little as possible so her family didn’t have to worry about collecting much from the barracks if she did in fact die.  
Listening to her Hahren laugh as she shook her head, opening a door in his bathroom he looked over at her.  
“How do you feel about dresses? I was going to save this for when you got bound… but it would suit this meeting,” Falon’din mused gently, pulling a white dress out from where it was hanging, “Simple yet elegant, just like you, ma da’lin.”  
It was her turn to laugh as she strode over to him, her nimble fingers running carefully over the white silk of the dress. Noticing the gold pieces on the shelf she paused; she recognized the dress. It had been one of the few times he had willingly gone out in public with her. It was months ago for his birthday. They had been walking down the streets looking at various things as she talked him into telling her stories from before he was made a member of the Pantheon. The dress itself was a one of a kind dress that she had fallen in love with the moment she saw it while he was telling her about a battle against Tevinter from his youth. She had hoped one day that we would be able to wear something like it when she was bound to her Vhenan… now? How was she supposed to feel about the dress? He had bought it for her without her knowing… and now she would be wearing it for a different reason.  
Pulling her hand away slowly she shook her head. There was no way she could wear such a thing. She would sooner walk around Arlathan naked than wear something as nice as this around the Dread Wolf. He seemed the hermit, as did most members of the Pantheon, yet there were enough stories about the various women that would come out of her room that she wanted no part of it. Let alone that Fen’Harel was Mythal’s chosen. Between the rumors of his sexual prowess and knowing who he worked with she wanted none of it.  
“No, Give him the cake when he comes here. I’m going home. I have an early day with June in the morning to go over the new weapons his people are making for the army.” She sighed, stepping back as she went to grab her underclothes and leathers, “Father will kill me if Fen’Harel doesn’t go through him for this- and will probably ask for his head.”  
“Good excuse, Faelwen,” Dirthamen sighed, stepping in her way, “but I can tell you are running. Do you really want to get on Mythal’s bad side.?”  
“Better now than later.” She smirked, putting her armor pieces back on, “What fun is it not having a God mad at me?”  
This of course was a joke. A very bad joke. She was pretty sure she could feel the daggers her Hahren was throwing at her with his eyes. Yet without another word she grabbed her gear and jogged her way to the stairs, moving quickly down them. She wasn’t going to be here when Fen’Harel arrived. Not if she could help it. There was no way she could handle that. Right now she needed one relaxing night before her world crumbled around her.  
Resting her hand against the main Eluvian that would lead her back out to the cave she closed her eyes, her heart racing. Why was she so afraid of what this would all mean for her? After all she knew that someday her step-father would find a way to tie her down- even if it was against her will. She just couldn’t help to wonder as to why now as she ran through the cave, ignoring the sound of the dragonlings as she carefully stepped out into the skeletal bridge- her legs shaking more and more with each carefully placed step she took.  
Slipping slightly she let out a squeak, grabbing onto a rib as she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down. The closer she was getting to the main Eluvian that lead to this place she felt as if she was going to be sick. Opening her eyes back up she moved, more carefully this time and made her way to the end of the bridge. As soon as she was off safely she sprinted, ignoring the scenery she loved so much, so that she could get back to the barracks.  
She needed to see him. Even just this one last time- just one last night; it needed to be her that explained everything… not one of her soldiers who she knew would blow the rumors out of proportion. It was what people did when they talked… and she didn’t want her Vhenan to go through that.  
Looking about as she stepped through the next Eluvian she was having a hard time remembering how she had gotten this far. She was now within the Market District of Arlathan, again, which was close to where she needed to be. Shaking her head as she walked through the crowds of people she couldn’t help but notice everyone whispering as she past. Did the people already know her fate? Had the word really spread that quickly? The idea of it made her nervous.  
Moving faster she jogged down a pair of stairs and took a right, heading down another pair of steps until she finally got into her home district where the barracks where held. The military district was something that Andruil had been adamant about having building for the Army so that they were housed where they were needed most, and so they could get to other places quickly. There were a set of nine Eluvians set together specifically so that the soldiers could get to the Temples quickly if they were under attack, and thirteen more for the various districts within Arlathan.  
“Commander Lavellan?”  
“Not now,” She sighed, moving past a group of her soldiers as she moved towards the barracks, “I have to find Thelven.”  
Her words left her mouth quickly as she pushed open the door to the barracks where everyone was laughing and singing- playing cards as if nothing wrong had happened earlier that day. That was, of course, until she walked through the door. The singing dulled down until it had completely stopped, only a few people still laughing and talking and ignoring her as she came inside. This was not the normal reaction to her coming to the barracks. No, usually someone was handing her a drink and dragging her into playing a card game as they all made terrible jokes all night long until they passed out.  
This… this wasn’t normal.  
“Faelwen?” she heard Thelven’s voice, causing her to tense, “What are you doing here?”  
“I need to talk to you.” Her voice was shaky as she looked over at him.  
Did he not know? If he didn’t know what was going on… why were they treating her so differently? She knew for a fact had he known of her engagement there would be talk of running away together- of finding a way out of it. That was the way it was the last time her father had tried such a thing.  
“You shouldn’t even be here,” on of the men sitting next to him stated, “Did you not here? By your father’s decision you aren’t allowed to hold a position of power anymore… Mythal and Andruil agreed you were no longer in the military anymore- they informed us of your discharge about thirty minutes ago.”  
“Discharge?” Her skin was hot against her leathers as she clenched her jaw, “Thelven, we need to talk before this get out of hand- please.”  
Watching as he looked over at a couple of the other men, standing slowly as he set his drink down and followed her outside. How was she even going to do this? Her life was already falling apart in front of her. What was so going to say to him?  
The one thing she knew for sure was that by the end of this day, her life was going to be completely different- even if her father didn’t get complete control of her life.


	4. Telam Sominar (nightmare)

Leaning against the banister she waited patiently for what he had to say to all of this. Faelwen knew it would be a lot for him to take in. After all there was a difference from handling combat and handling the drama that the Elven Pantheon created on a whim. All she could pray for was him to react the exact way she was hoping for. Hell, she was already picturing the places they could run away to… The beauty of the Arbor Wilds, or the solitude of the Korcari Wilds… Or Minrathous. Sure, it was a human city, but it wasn’t unheard of for elves to leave Arlathan. It would be the best and easiest way to get out of the laws of the elves  
“Faelwn,” she heard him finally sigh as she pulled her eyes away from the clouds that surrounded the main part of the city, “How far do you want to go?”  
Smiling she closed her eyes. That one simple question put her heart and mind at ease. She couldn’t imagine the Evanuris coming after her, after all, so they could go almost anywhere that wasn’t Arlathan or another major Elven city.  
“I don’t know,” she admitted, opening her eyes and turning around so she was sitting against the banister, “The Korcari Wilds sounds like it would be a fun adventure- it would be solitary since there are not many Elves crazy enough to brave the wilds… Yet Minrathous sounds amazing- a huge human city with people bustling everywhere.. Frilly cakes, amazing culture..”  
“And military personal would recognize you as an Elven commander.”  
Letting out another sigh she crossed her arms, looking out over the city that they were standing well above. Arlathan at night was a beautiful sight. It broke her heart to think that to be happy she would need to leave such a place… The structures stood tall and elegant around the cloud that surrounded the city where it sat high in the sky. The sound from the nearby waterfall echoing soothingly through even the furthest parts of this Elven Haven. It reminded her of the small house her real parents had own when she was just a small child.  
“Can I just play dead and start over?” She asked, only half joking as she turned her head to look at her lover, a smirk on his lips, “that wouldn’t be too much, right?”  
“Vhenan,” He chuckled, pulling her into his arms as he kissed her temple, “You aren’t going to play dead; that won’t fix a thing.”  
Snorting as she snuggled into him further she closed her eyes again. She didn’t want to admit he was right. Admitting she was wrong was something she wasn’t taught to do- after all her family was probably filled with some of the most stubborn Elves to ever live. Yet in her heart she knew she would either have to leave with Thelven or stay and face the fact she was marrying a false god.  
“Thelven?” she asked gently, clenching her jaw she remembered what Dirthamen told her, “You have to promise me that what I’m about to tell you won’t change your mind; I can’t lie to you and say Dirthamen didn’t put in his two cents.”  
“Vhenan, I can’t promise that,” He stated, his grip loosening as he pulled away to get a better look at her face, “You know my family worships Dirthamen. I hold his markings for a reason… I’m one of his agents and I can’t go against his word.”  
Pulling completely out of his arms she opened her eyes, her ghost blue eyes fixating on a point further out away from the city. Did she really want to tell him, to have him walk away from her because of something Dirthamen said? Was she prepared to lose the love of her life over simple words?  
“Forget it,” she sighed, her hands going into her pockets as she shook her head, “I want just one decent night before my life crumbles around me.”  
“Vhenan, you can’t just walk away from what he said. If he put in his two cents it’s because he saw something- you know that. Dirthamen is a man of few words.”  
“Did you not just hear me say I want one nice night?” she snapped, glaring over at him as she felt the tears welling in her eyes, “I- I have to go. Father will expect me home sometime before the sun rises… I’m sorry Vhenan, goodnight.” She stated gently, turning to leave when she felt Thelven grab her arm, squeezing it gently.  
“You aren’t going to have even a decent night if you go back home, Faelwen. Why not just stay out here a little longer… I can find some excuse to tell your father as to why you were gone.”  
“Only if you promise to drop this subject.”  
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he smiled, pulling her back to him, “There is a good patch of grass covered by some trees nearby, it’ll be more comfortable than the cobble stones here, Vhenan.”  
Agreeing she took his hand, walking slowly with him as her thumb traced over his. This was almost like any other night between the two, though usually it didn’t include her telling him she was being bound to someone else and being on the verge of just crying. Yet with every step she took further away from the outskirts of the city, further into the nearby forests, she finally started to feel a little at peace. As if for just this one moment the world was still spinning and her father wasn’t causing her world to crash down around her.  
Moving to take her armor off once they were in the grove she smiled at Thelven, who was doing the same. It felt like an innocent moment, which was what she needed more than anything. She could hear him making making quips about her armor and the fight earlier that morning. This was just like him, and helped her to relax more as set her things down and moved to lay out on the grass- staring up at the stars above them.  
Soon she was joined by her love, his arm wrapping around her as they talked innocently about the constellations above them and shared the stories their parents would tell them- every god having their own story for them. The only one that seemed to stay the same was The dragon- the biggest constellation amongst them all, the tip of the tale holding the northern star. Closing her eyes, smiling as she leaned into him, she listened to his heart thrum as he told the story to her. Sleep soon took her, well before she was ready for sleep.  
***  
“Run Da’lin! Go to your Babala!” She could hear her mother shout to her as she tensed, moving from out behind the tree as she watched the fearful expression creep onto her mother’s face as she looked between the forest and her, “Everything will be alright, ma da’lin, I promise- just run”  
“Mamae-” she tried to argue as her mother looked back at the forest for just a moment before snapping her head back to look at the small child, hiding scared by a tree.  
“Listen to me da’lin!”  
Letting out a sob she nodded, scared beyond even her wildest dream as she clung to the stuffed wolf she had been given just the year before when her father had died.. Looking for just a moment into the woods she could see figures moving, the sounds of gnashing and gnawing of teeth. A shiver went down her spine before she took off, bolting into the other side of the woods as she tried to get to the Eluvian as quickly as possible. Her small feet not carrying her very far before someone moved close to her.  
Letting out a scream she tried to move out of the way, a spark of lightning flying past her as she listened to her mother curse them in a dialect of Elven what was only used amongst the Elven Pantheon. Letting out another sob as she moved away from the dead body that was lying too close to her for her comfort she looked back- creators did she know that was a bad idea… but she couldn’t just leave her mamae there, could she? Not with those terrible monsters coming after her.  
Watching as two of the abominations grabbed her mother, pinning her so she couldn’t move she let out a scream, yelling at her mother to run- to do something. Yet her words landed on deaf ears, the sounds from the demons growing only louder as they whispered sweet nothings to her mother before ending her life. Turning she ran faster, her feet carrying her in a way she had no idea was possible- not at her young age.  
When she arrived at the Eluvian she rested her hand against it, tears still streaming down her face as she clung to the wolf. He was her only solace in this word as she move through the mirror, gasping for air as she dropped to her knees and continued to cry. She didn’t even hear the worried Elves around her asking what was wrong as she held her stuffed animal tighter, sobbing, “I want ma babala!”  
She could hear the people around her scrambling, their words falling silent as she could hear footsteps coming near to them.  
“What happened, why is ma da’lin crying?” the voice was rough, like that of someone who had smoked cigars for too many years. Though the voice was rough on the ears, it brought her the smallest amount of joy in such a moment.  
“Babala?” She cried, shuffling to find him, her eyes too clouded with tears for her to properly see, “ma babala!”  
“I’m here, da’lin.,” The voice soothed, pulling her into his arms as he held her tightly, “Tell babala what happened, ma da’lin.”  
“Falon’din,” one of his agents warned, causing her to jump in his arms, hiding her face as she cried harder- so afraid of what would happen if they saw her. If they knew who and what she was, “Elgar’nan’s agents were out by the far reaches of Arlathan, one of Dirthamen’s scout just came back to warn us.”  
She heard her babala swear under his breath, holding her tighter as he moved to pick her up. Carrying her as gently as he could while holding her as close as he could. As she listened to their words she wrapped her arms around his neck. She wanted this to end, for the pain to stop. Both of her parents were gone. The only thing she had left was her unagreeable step-father who was already trying to set her up to be married off at eighteen.  
“Abominations,” she choked out, pulling at his ash blackened hair that had been tainted from years of his own magic, “Babala there were abominations...”  
These were the only words she managed as her world went black, a worried voice trying to cut through to her  
***  
Jolting awake, gasping for air, she could feel the tears streaming down her face. Grasping at her chest as she tried to calm herself down she closed her eyes again, trying to blink back the tears and hold back the sob that threaten to come out. She had been reliving that nightmare of a night every year for fourteen years, yet it had never been so vivid- it was only bits and pieces before.  
Feeling a hand rest on her shoulder she twitched, moving away from it as her head turned to see whom it was that was with her- completely forgetting she had fallen asleep in Thelven’s arms.  
“Faelwen?” He asked, smiling weakly at her as his thumb rubbed against her shoulder, “Was it that nightmare again?”  
She looked around them, noticing the sun coming up over the trees ever so softly, a litany of greens, yellows, and reds coming into the grove. Blinking a couple times as she wiped her tears away, taking a deep breath she looked back at him, offering him the only smile she could offer, which was a weak as they came.  
“Yeah.” those were the only words she could muster as she looked back up at the sky.  
“We have to get you back before everyone thinks you died.” He stated, moving ever so slightly closer to her, “after I finish scouting this morning, how about we go down the the lake? That really beautiful one you love in the south. You aren't a commanding officer anymore, so no one will miss you if I steal you away for the day.”  
“I’d like that,” she sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder, “You head out first so my father doesn’t ask for your head. I’ll tell him I camped out on the ridge to get my mind off of things.”  
“Ma nuvenin… Ar lath ma Vhenan,” He stated gently, giving her a gentle kiss before getting up to grab his things, “ir abelas I’m not able to stay longer.”  
Finally offering him a real smile she stood up, wrapping her arms around his neck as she played with the tuft of hair at the nap of his neck.  
“Ma Vhenan, last night more than makes up for you having to leave at a god awful hour… now go before your new commanding officer has to discipline you.”  
She listened as he snorted, wrinkling his nose before kissing her forehead. Watching as he put on the last of his armor she smiled. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. So long as she didn’t tell him what Dirthamen said- she reminded herself of this as she grabbed her sword and shield, putting them back into place.  
After assuming it was enough time between them she moved out of the grove, heading down towards the Eluvian to head back into the city to grab her things from the barracks to take back to her Hahren’s temple and fortress. There was no way she was going back to be with her father. Not after him making such a decision for her. As she walked through the people she could hear them still whispering, but this time it was not about her.  
“Did you hear, Falon’din’s army has invaded Mythal’s lands?” one of the nearby elves asked.  
“No, that can’t be true!” another elf exclaimed as Faelwen lowered her eyes.  
Her Hahren invading Mythal’s lands? That was absurd. There was no way he had that sort of death wish. If any God was waging war against Mythal, she would have assumed it to be Andruil or Ghilan’nain- Andruil’s chosen. Andruil had been slowly going mad with her trips into the void… so it was not impossible that in her madness she would do something so stupid… but Falon’din was trained by his mother and knew what she was capable of. He knew better than invade the lands of someone he knew who could pass judgement and have him executed- or worse- made tranquil.  
Grabbing her things out of the barracks quickly, avoiding the questions that were coming from the men and woman inside, she jogged her way through the city back towards the district in which Falon’din’s followers lived. She did not take the time to appreciate everything as she moved through the Eluvian and up the path, the bright lights of the plants around her only irritating her eyes as she moved faster. There had to be something going on.  
There had to be more to this.  
Pressing her hand against the next Eluvian, noticing movement out of the corner of her eyes, she stepped through and looked around. The people within seemed on edge as they all talked. None of it was about the whispers and rumors she had heard within the city, but the fact everyone was so tense said it all. They all knew… but how true were the rumors?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Babala - Grandfather


	5. Dirtha Banal (to speak of destruction)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Na melana sahlin, masal din’an - you're time has come, (the next part is an untranslated insult form the game)  
> Da'vhenan - little heart  
> len’alas lath’din - dirty child no one loves  
> papae - father  
> seth'lin - thin blood  
> Halam sahlin - this ends now

“My lady,” One of the guards stated, looking nervous as he moved their spear in front of the Eluvian that lead to her Hahren’s room within his fortress and temple, “Falon’din is speaking with Elgar’nan.”  
“Good,” She stated, crossing her arms as she glared at the guard, “Than I can get answers about this rumor. Now move.”  
The guards looked between themselves nervously before moving their spears and speaking their warnings in hushed tones. That fact that these men were so nervous about all of this cause her to be on alert as she stepped through the Eluvian. Inside his fortress she could see Dirthamen speaking with a scout, completely oblivious to her presence. Taking a couple steps towards them she waited silently, noticing the scout looking at her from the corner of her eye for a second before looking back at Dirthamen. That was when he noticed her, going silent.  
“Da'len, Falon’din is upstairs, but I would wait for father to leave before you go up… he is… not in the greatest mood.”  
“When is he ever?” She asked, looking confused as to why he was worried about her going up there. The worst Elgar’nan could do was tell her to leave, “Dirthamen, are the rumors true?”  
“Only as true as he wishes them to be,” he sighed, shaking his head, “I can’t believe this was his reaction to my words… talk to him once Elgar’nan is gone, da'len. He’ll be able to give you better answers- if he choses to give them.”  
Wrinkling her nose as she looked at the man before her confused she didn’t know what to think. Only as true as he wishes them to be? He had to be speaking in reference to her Hahren, but why would he even want to be in Mythal’s lands? He knew better than to poke a bear with a stick, theoretically speaking. At least she hoped he knew better. Taking a step back from the pair she looked at the stairs.  
Was she really going to be afraid of one man? Everyone knew of the all father’s temper. Hell he brought the sky down on the Dwarven people and forced them underground because he felt like it. So the creators only truly knew what he would do if she went up those stairs… yet she wasn’t afraid of him. More than anything she wanted to face him knowing everything he has done.  
Clenching her jaw she took the first steps, ignoring Dirthamen’s questions as she walked up the spiral steps quietly. If Falon’din was talking to his father, she knew she might be able to get more information out of him that way than if she had just simply asked.  
She was still only nineteen, an age that most people thought was far too young for someone to be involved in war. Most who had held the position before her had been in their thirties or forties, which was only relative due to their long lives. She knew Falon’din still saw her as the small child, clutching at a wolf stuffed animal that had been given to her by creators only knows who… Yet she wasn’t that child anymore.  
Running her hand along the banister, lost in thought she could finally hear the words her Hahren and his father were exchanging. Pausing she closed her eyes. It was wrong to get information this way… yet she was trained by Andruil do gather information by any means possible- even if that meant spying. It was the only way that the Elven Armies were able to get the information they did it seemed since no one ever gave anything up willingly.  
“Do you want to be made tranquil?” She heard Elgar’nan snarl, his voice loud and obnoxious to her ears as she opened her eyes and looked at the door, “This is an insult to the Pantheon, Da'lin. What are you even thinking?”  
“Am I the only one of us who cares about her people?” she heard Falon’din yell back, his voice strained and not sounding of silk like it normally did, “Are you all blind to what is going on?”  
“It is for your mother to protect her lands- not for you, da'len. I almost think you’ve lost your mind.”  
“Lost my mind?” He screamed, his voice cracking as she head something shatter against the wall, “I lost it when you killed my son. I lost it when you killed his wife in cold blood! Na melana sahlin, masal din’an.”  
Tensing at her Hahren’s words she knocked on the door. This argument was going to far. What was he even thinking threatening Elgar’nan? He had the most sway of the Gods when it came to Mythal. He was almost asking to be made tranquil if the rumors were true.  
Hearing a sigh come from the other side of the door she hear Hahren give a short ‘come in; sounding more irritated with whomever he assumed was at the door than his father or the situation. Moving her hand gently against the wooden door she took in a deep breath and prepared for what was to come- whatever words were to come her way from either of them. That was when she saw the confused and concerned look fall to Falon’din’s face. He had tried his best for her nineteen years of life to keep her as far away from his father as possible, yet now here she was. Face to face with the man who orchestrated her parents’ murders.  
Offering Elgar’nan a forced smile she set her bag down and walked over to Falon'din, kissing his check and hugged him- acting the part of a mistress rather than his granddaughter. It was the easiest rumor to mimic that people had about her and her hahren.  
“I came as soon as I heard the rumors… are you alright?”  
“I am fine, da’vhenan,” He stated gently, letting out a sigh as she felt his arms snake around her, “you need not worry about me.. Father, will you give us a moment, please?”  
“Take the time you wish,” Elgar’nan sighed, looking at them with disgust in his yellow eyes, “the next words you hear from any of us will be from your mother, len’alas lath’din.”  
Watching over her shoulder as Elgar’nan stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, she couldn’t help but tense. The rumors had to be true if he was here. They didn’t go after each other unless they had done something to upset the other. Though Elgar’nan found reasons to pick fights with everyone.  
“Why?” she asked, pulling away from him as she looked into his ghost blue eyes that matched her own, “Why did you do it, Hahren?”  
She watched as he opened his mouth and closed it, looking for the right words. Watching him as he mentally fumbled with his own words, unsure what to say to her, stressed her out more. There had to be something completely wrong if he wasn’t telling her what was going on. No matter how much he saw her as that lost five year old girl he had never lied to her.  
“da'len,” he sighed, pushing a piece of her silvery blonde hair behind her ear, “You wouldn’t understand. I had to do this. I will accept whatever punishment my mother serves me… but I couldn’t not march on her lands. You’ll understand in due time.”  
“That’s not an answer,” She growled, pulling further away from him, “she could make you tranquil.”  
“A fate worse than death,” he mused, a weak smile on his face, “da'len, my mother wouldn’t make me tranquil.”  
Shaking her head she bit her lip. Why was he doing this? He wouldn’t give her an answer and he was treating this as if he had just stolen something. He marched on her lands- marched on her people. The last person to try this was dead. Mythal was not one to be reckoned with, and this was something every member of their pantheon knew and understood. She was the protector- the all-mother of the pantheon. Mythal was the judge of all things when it came to the Elven people… yet here her Hahren was, testing fate to see if his mother would just turn her cheek or if she would punish him.  
“I have to leave, Da’len,” he stated gently, grabbing his own sword and shield, “When I come back we will have a proper meeting for you and Fen’harel. Mother had suggested a ball yesterday in the halls of her stronghold.”  
“I-” She paused, looking down as her eyes waters, “that would be fine, Hahren.”  
Shaking her head she grabbed her bag, slinging it back over her shoulder and headed back down the staircase before he could ask her what was wrong or try to carry that conversation on. If it wasn’t one thing with the false gods, it was another… but with it being Falon’din? It hit her harder than she had expected. She had already lost so much. She wasn’t sure if she was prepared to lose him, too.  
Stepping down the last step she looked over at Dirthamen, who looked back concerned and took a step forward, as she turned and walked away from him and towards the front of his strong hold. She would take a different Eluvian out of the stronghold than usual; it put her closer to the Eluvian that lead to the Arbor wilds. She needed the walk that lead up to Mythal’s temple. She didn’t want to hear the screams from the well of sorrows, but just to relax along the path. There was no way his forces were near the temple; Falon’din knew betters. So she knew she would be safe on the walk and could hopefully clear her mind.  
Touching her hand to the Eluvian she stepped through, looking at the network that was around her. This was one of the few Eluvian’s within Falon’din’s stronghold that allowed you to walk the path and find the next Eluvian you needed without having to walk through the city. Making her way to the Eluvian he had placed in the center she rested her hand against it, pausing for just one moment. Taking a deep breath she stepped through, looking around at the trees that towered around her.  
The ravine that lead to Mythal’s temple was beautiful in a much different way than the path to Falon’din and Dirthamen’s temples. For their path’s were just a show until you stepped into the Eluvian that would get you where you needed. Mythal’s temple had all of one Eluvian on the path, and it was the one you stepped out from. There were various Eluvian’s in Arlathan that would lead to the inside of the temple, but never to the Wilds. They were a sacred place, and it was only those who needed solace that walked the path.  
Taking a deep breath, taking in the fresh air, she took her first steps along the dirt path. She couldn’t help to feel more grounded and at peace as her toes and heels buried slightly into the dirt as she walked. Taking in the bright reds and oranges of the flowers that were amongst the trees she couldn’t help but smile a little. No matter how stressed she was, the Arbor wilds could put her at ease, as they did many others who took this pilgrimage to the temple. Hearing the rushing water from the river nearby she paused, looking at the two paths that were coming ahead of her- one pathed and the other dirt leading off into the river.  
Having walked this path with her father when she was young she knew to take the low road- the path that lead into the river. The other was to an alcove with a shrine to Fen’harel. That was the last place she wanted to be. So she took the low path, shivering as her partially exposed feet hit the water. Letting out the gasp as it rushed over she continued to move, avoiding the areas that she knew to have the sharper rocks.  
When she finally made it to the temple she was happy to have her feet back on grassy ground, curling her toes into it for just a moment before examining the door in front of her. Noticing the wolf statue nearby she wrinkled her nose. Of course there would be patronage to the Dread Wolf near her temple- he was after all her chosen. It made her wonder if there was ever a moment she wasn’t going to be reminded of the man.  
Shaking that thought away she moved up the steps, pushing on the door to enter the temple. The people inside seemed unphased by her presence, even with the Army that was probably not too far off in the wilds where the majority of her followers lived. They all seemed calm, as if nothing was happening at all and it was just a normal day. Closing the door behind her she moved, walking along the path that lead deeper into the temple- back towards where she could pay patronage to Mythal and pry at her altar. Yet that was not where she really wanted to be.  
“Da’len?” she heard a familiar voice scratch at her ear drums as she paused, turning to look at the man whom the words came from, “Why are you here?”  
“Papae,” she smiled slightly, “I needed some silence, so I walked the pilgrimage to the temple and was hoping to sit by the well of sorrows to get some peace and quiet.”  
“She hasn’t even let Fen’Harel back there since your talk yesterday, Da’len,” He mused as he pulled her into a hug, “We need to talk. Why were you not home last night? How are you handling the engagement?”  
“As well as someone who is about to lose everything they’ve worked for would handle it,” she hissed, pulling away from him as she glared at him in pure rage, “why would you have me bound to the Dread Wolf? Of all people the Dread Wolf?” Her voice was raising at this point, causing people to look in their direction as he pulled her away leading her back into one of the area areas of the temple were it was only servants- not patrons to Mythal.  
“You are making a bigger deal of this than you need to, Faelwen,” he stated, crossing his arms as he glared back at her, his calm and fatherly facade dropping quickly as soon as they were basically alone, “I’m not ruining your life. Stop acting like a spoiled brat.”  
“Spoiled brat? I am nineteen and should be allowed to make decisions for myself. Instead you are forcing me into a marriage and have talked Mythal into not letting keep my command- everything I have been working for all my life.”  
“This is an honor, len’alas lath’din, and you will accept it as such. As my adoptive child you will follow the will of Mythal.”  
“Oh?” She smirked at him, “I sooner stripe naked and let Elgar’nan flog me into repentance; I don’t follow your false gods, seth’lin.”  
“Halam sahlin,” He growled, grabbing her arm and pulling her in close, “you will do as I say.”  
Snorting she ripped her arm away from him and gave him a wicked grin.  
“Oh I will, will I? I would sooner see Arlathan fall to its knees than listen to you, seth’lin.”  
Moving away from him she walked out of the room they were in and sprinted down the path she needed to get to the main chambers that held the path to the Well of Sorrows. She could already hear the whispers that came from it that whispered to her sweet nothings and promises of knowledge. The screams she would soon here would bring her no comfort, but she knew what she was at the well that the screams would soon stop and she would be able to find some peace and think of her next move. After all she had all the time in the world until Thelven was finished with his scouting shift.


	6. Vallaslin

Laying on her back alongside the well she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on outside the temple. Mythal was no where to bee seen, yet she had still been given permission to go to the well, which was strange to her… Mythal was never away from her temple, nor did she let people near the well without her. Every god had their Foci and the knowledge that came with it, and this was her’s. So why was she so carelessly letting her sit alongside it? Breathing in she closed her eyes. That was when she heard the screams from the other part of the temple as her eyes shot open, jolting into the sitting position as she looked over at the guards who stood within the room.  
She watched as they moved, trying to get out of the room quickly to see what was going on. What was going on? Getting up she followed them out, grabbing her sword and shield from where she had set them as she moved out through the back door to the room. As soon as she made it to the main chambers of the temple she froze as she listened to the people crying, the bodies being brought in side as soldiers called for the healers.  
Staring in horror she set her things down, moving quickly to one of the soldiers who looked the worst and rubbed her hands together so they wouldn’t be so cold against their skin.  
“Hold still for me,” She asked gently, helping the agent get them to the ground with no other injury, “This will burn a little until the healing process is almost done. I promise it will be over soon.”  
Her words were confident and soft, yet she didn’t feel as confident as her words came. There was no way to tell if this soldier would be able to live through their wounds. He, from the looks of it, would need to be lead into Uthenera, but why would someone willingly be lead there by the man who was orchestrating this attack to her knowledge? Biting her lips as her hands started to glow green she started the process, her fingertips as light as a feather against their skin.  
She tried to ignore the moans and the cries that came from him, focusing only on the wound as she moved, pulling a piece of a sword that had broken off out. Setting it to the side she went back to her work, noticing that the wound was healing much better now and he wasn’t in as much pain. Breathing a sigh of relief she moved away from him, allowing the other soldiers to bring him water and leaving him to rest. As she moved through the men being brought in she couldn’t help but notice this wasn’t the work of Falon’din or his agents. No, this was the work of another of the Evanuris.  
Pulling away from them all she she tried to gather her thoughts she wondered what the hell was going on. Was this why he was invading his mother’s lands….? To stop an attack on her people? It would make more sense that him trying to take control; he was crazy at his best, but never stupid. He had always been a well calculated man that only took risks that he felt were worth the consequences. Was this why he saw no issue with his actions?  
Looking towards the door she started to notice agents of Sylaise entering the temple, moving quickly to the wounded. If they were here… how bad was it on the field.  
“Faelwen,” On of her agents called out to her, her ears barely registering the sound as her thoughts went wild with all the possibilities of who was doing this, “Faelwen? Can you hear me?”  
Snapping back into reality she looked over at the agent who was speaking to her, looking confused as she furled her eyebrows. Why were they calling for her?  
“Falon’Din,” They sighed, resting a hand on her shoulder, “Mythal took him down. We had to pull him off of the field before she could cause him any more injuries. He should be back at his stronghold with Sylaise, but this isn’t his work; there is too much madness here… Please, talk to him. Get him to tell you who planned this. We need to know what we are facing here, or more people will die.”  
Nodding she rested a hand on their shoulder before pulling away, grabbing her things again before moving to the Eluvian she know would leave her directly into his stronghold. Did Mythal really think he did this with the destruction there was? He may have been pronounced the God of the Dead because of his abilities to walk in and out of Uthenera willingly, but destruction was not something he ever worked towards. He avoided death as much as possible because he had always valued the lives around him too much. The only one of the Evanuris she could think of that would do this was Andruil.  
She had gone within the void too many times for even the people's comfort in her vain attempt to destroy the Forgotten ones- the darker gods of the people. They were the false gods who focused around the chaos in the world. Had they tainted the God of the Hunt in her attempts to strike them down? The mere thought scared.  
Stepping through the Eluvian she ignored the screaming of Falon’din’s agents begging her to stay away and to leave him be. Dropping her things at the stepps she sprinted up them, taking two steps at a time to reach his room quicker. She needed answers. Hell, Sylaise needed answers so that she could be better equipped to heal the injured. If this carried on, if the people’s soldier came back looking like they had in Mythal’s temple, or worse, they weren’t going to have much of a chance against this new enemy.  
As soon as she reached the door to his room she shoved it open, earning a few frightened looks from those within. Next to the rustic bed, made of wood and log, sat Dirthamen who was trying to talk to his brother. To the other side was Sylaise, who was holding a water bowl and a towel. Of course there were many of his agents in the room keeping watch. They only lowered their weapons they had pointed when they saw it was her.  
“Babala?” She asked, moving quickly to his side and grabbed his hand, “What happened?”  
“Mother wasn’t exactly happy with my forces in her lands…”  
“She’ll be less happy that she’s dealing with the threat she left herself with you leaving.” Dirthamen hissed, looking at his brother, “If she pushes her armies any further only the creators will know what happens.”  
“No,” Falon’din smiled before coughing, blood on his hand from doing do, “we know what will happen if she keeps this up… it won’t be too much longer now that she will bare the mark. She will be her own destruction.”  
“Who will be?” Sylaise asked, wiping his hand clean before trying to make him drink his tea, which he pushed away in disgust.  
“One day the magic will come back - all of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.” Dirthamen state, another voice that was rougher, deeper that his own, as a sub vocal to his own. That was when he started coughing, shaking his head as he looked away confused and worried.  
Sylaise tensed next to her as she continued to help Falon’din. Yet Faelwen had no idea what was going on or what to think. She knew that Dirthamen was the God of Secrets. That he often times was able to see the future well before it happened… but his words made no sense. Were they about their time, or another?  
“When who rises?” She finally asked as Falon’din just looked at her and offered a smiled.  
“Ma Ha’raj,” he stated gently, using the name he never called her all that often as he took her hand and squoze it, “There is much about this world that you do not understand. You were born for a reason- a purpose that we have even yet to understand… The events to come will put you in the right place at the right time; what is to come will not just impact our people- but all who come after.”  
“Babala,” She sighed, looking at him more confused that she had ever felt in her entire life, “What are you talking about? And why do you call me Ma Ha’raj?”  
She watched him as he pulled his hand away, smiling as he tapped his nose. It had always been his way of telling her it was he and Dirthamen’s little secret. Sighing in frustration she looked away. There were no answers she was going to get here out of him. Nor was he in any condition to do anything.  
“Rest easy, Da’len, everything will be fine in it’s due time… though something tells me you would have been here even if I had not been injured.” He stated, moving to sit up as he set the still full cup of tea to the side, “Tell me, Da’len, what’s on your mind.”  
“If I were to, say, decide that I wanted to be one of your followers… would you accept me as a patron?” She asked, looking at him as she tried to gauge his reaction.  
His ghost blue eyes were looking into hers searching for answers as he squinted slightly. She knew he was scrutinizing the situation and trying to pick his words carefully as he made his decision.  
“You are nineteen, da’len. You were able to decide the god you held as your patron at eighteen. If you wish to mark yourself as my worshiper, I would not be unwilling giving you my mark. You understand what statement you will be making, yes?”  
“Yes, Hahren.” She stated gently.  
How could she not? The markings of the gods were meant so those who were agents or slaves would be recognized by their god.. She knew what people would think of her taking his mark. Being marked for a god was not something most people smiled upon, and with the rumors surrounding them… along with him marching on Mythal’s lands, there would be more rumors and terrible words spoken about them both.  
“Dirthamen, grab my paints.” He stated gently, offering her a smile as he moved to sit up, moving his blanket off of him. “Come sit in front of me Da’len; this will take time.”  
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sylaise asked, looking at her concerned as she put her bowl the to side and sat on the bed next to Falon’din, “This could make you more of a target if they think he will make you his chosen.”  
“It’s a risk I am willing to take; I already have a target on me head. If this will do what I think it will, than I am willing.”  
Moving to sit on the bed she closed her eyes, prepared for what was to come. The Vallaslin, or blood writing, as a painful process. It wasn’t like the glyphs where he would just under the first layer of skin and did not last long. No, this was worse. To mark yourself as a patron of a god, marked as an agent or slave, they would mark you through every layer of the skin until it reached the dermis. These marks were meant to last a lifetime, and prove that what were willing to suffer for your god. If you couldn’t handle this? You were not worthy of devotion to your god.  
“Breath, Da’lin- find your happy place. I will make this as painless as I can.” With those words he took his needle and ink and began to draw the first piece on the brow line. The circle drawn right in the middle did not hurt as much as she thought it would, nor did the dot in the middle. It was when he started to draw the lines down her nose that spread out like roots to the tip that she started to feel the pain as he pressed the needle into her skin. Gasping as her nails dug into her palm she felt her eyes watering.  
The pain only got worse as he drew the lanes up into her upper forehead, also spreading out like roots and looking like horns. Once he was finished with her brow and forehead he moved to her cheeks, drawing the lines down her laugh lines and the others that went with it. At this point the tears were streaming down her face as she kept silent. Any shout or cry of pain would be the end of the process. Not even Falon’din would have bent those rules for her.  
When he finished the cheeks, and finished the small design on the chin he smiled at her. Opening his arms up to her as she opened hers she leaned forward, resting her forehead against his chest. Closing her eyes again as she tried to gain composure she could feel his hands on her back, rubbing it gently as he place a kiss on the top of her head.  
“You are no slave to me, Da’len; I could never view you as such. If you wish the title of agent, it is yours… but know that I expect nothing from you” Falon’din stated, earning a smile from her.  
“You’re father will be furious.” Sylaise added, frowning as she packed her things.  
“He’s not my father, and he will live with my decisions.”  
“Right before the ball, too,” Sylaise sighed, smiling at her, “Da’len, I hope you know what you are doing.”  
“Completely.” She stated, finally pulling away from her Hahren as she looked over at the agents that were in the room, “When is the ball?”  
“Tonight, da’len,” Dirthamen chimed in, “And you don’t even have a dress.”  
“I do,” She smiled, moving off the bed and heading towards the closet, “I’ll have to cancel my day plans if it's tonight… but if I’m going I’m going in this.”  
She pulled out the white dress that Falon’din had bought for her. It was simplistic with its silk white fabric, but the gold pieces to be warn with it gave it the elegance she was looking for. She would look the part at this ball if it killed her. She wanted them to understand that they hadn’t shaken her with the engagement, that this attack on Falon’din did not shake her. Understanding what was at stake during this ball she understood she would need to be the one to throw the false gods off- make them believe that she accepted this engagement.  
She would show them all that they may have won this battle, but not the war- not if she could help it.


	7. Elithast (choice)

Sitting in front of the mirror she smiled back at Sylaise, who was doing her hair. Her silky silver blond hair was pulled back into a bun, a braid along the side of her head that was pulled back into the the bun. At the top of her head was a crown made of golden leada to match the gold at her neck and waist. The necklace she wore was made of piece, layered so that they sat one on top of the other. Her belt she wore at her waist was made the same way, layered perfect in a downward shape.  
“Beautiful, just like your mamae,” Sylaise mused gently, kissing her temple, “You have her cheekbones you know.”  
“So your cheekbones?” She teased back, smiling as she played with the golden leafs in her hair, “Thank you, Mamaela, for doing my hair and being here for me…”  
“Da’len,” The woman behind her mused gently, playing with one of the pieces of hair that she had left loose, “it’s my honor to be here for you since your mother can’t be. What type of mamaela would I be if I wasn’t here for you?”  
Snorting she smiled at her, “you would be like Andruil or Mythal.”  
“We wouldn't want that now I would we?” She smiled, moving away from her to grab something else, leaving Faelwen to stare in the mirror as she thought back to yesterday morning.  
Was this ball planned by Mythal, or her father? Either way she wasn't sure that she wanted to know. Whom ever it was that panned this would be upset. By getting her Hahren’s mark, she almost voided her father’s rights over her. Almost being the key word. He would hold rights since he adopted her until the day that she was either bound, or disowned her as his child. This mark was sure to earn the reaction she wanted out of him. If all went well he would throw his rights out the window and they would go to Falon’din, or even worst case scenario Fen’Harel. She would even accept the worst case scenario if it meant she got her freedom back.  
Sighing as she turned in her chair, looking over at what Sylaise was doing she smirked slightly. Was that nail polish she saw in her hands? Of course she would go for such a thing.. Watching as Sylaise finally picked a color, moving to put everything away and walking back over to her, she felt at ease, which she knew would be short lived. As long as she was going to have to spend a night with anyone who wasn’t family thus far she learned just to assume it wasn't going to last. Especially if it was with the Evanuris. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, feeling Sylaise grab her hand as she started to paint her nails.  
“Relax, da’len, everything will be fine. Fen’Harel isn’t as bad as the rumors make him out to be. He can actually be charming when he wishes to let go of his neutral air.”  
“Charming, the dread wolf? Are you sure your sister hasn’t rubbed off on you?” Faelwen teased back slightly, earning a look from Sylaise as she painted her thumb.  
“Andruil has definitely not rubbed off on me. Trust me, that man is smooth. He knows how to dance his way around any situation.”  
“Great. So he is exactly as Dirthamen and Falon’din have warned.”  
“Not exactly,” She could hear the woman sigh as she put the nail polish away, “Falon’din and Fen’Harel just aren’t exactly on speaking terms anymore.”  
Nodding she looked down at her nails that were wanted a blood red. Charming? That was never a word she had heard describe the Dread Wolf. It was usually trickster, womanizer, or cold, but never charming. Biting her lip as she thought about it she stood up, ignoring the mirror as she moved to leave the room. Sylaise followed after her, all ready for the night well before she had even helped her get ready. As they walked downtown the stairs she couldn’t help but feel nervous. This was the first time she would ever wear a mark on her face. To show the word that she was considered a second class citizen, though she knew by blood it was nowhere near the case. Sighing as she felt an arm snake through hers as they reached the bottom of the steps she looked over to see who it was.  
“Sylaise will be leaving to go with her husband,” Falon’din stated gently, smiling at her, “so you and I will be going to getter- probably piss mother off a little since I told them to announce you as my date.”  
“Already trying to piss more people off?” She smirked at him, “so you’re where I get that from, Hahren?”  
“Maybe,” he mused, resting his hand against the Eluvian and stepped through with her, “or it could be from your mother’s side.”  
“Hardly,” She snorted at him, pushing at his shoulder slightly as he walked with her to the next eluvian that would take him to his mother’s stronghold.  
As soon as they were through the second Eluvian she could hear the music and laughter, no one seeming to notice their arrival at all. Relaxing slightly at this idea she continued with Falon’din towards the stairs of the strong hold to go into the main hold where the party was to be held and where they would be announced. The closer they got to the stairs she could finally hear the whispers she was expecting with the addition of her markings to her skin. Of course the whispers didn’t make her comfortable at all, but she felt a little better knowing that people weren’t acting outside of the normal.  
“Are you ready for this?” She heard Falon’din whisper to her, smirking, “I’m so ready to watch the smile be wiped off of my mother’s face.”  
Looking at Falon’din confused as they walked inside she had no idea what he was getting at. Did he really have this sort of death wish? Between doing the markings himself and having them announce her as his date? This was not only the makings of an interesting night, but a potentially bad night. After all Falon’din was used to the game that came with politics. Faelwen? She was nowhere near used to it. Sure she heard the drama and had to work around it before as a commanding officer, but she had never willingly gone to one of these balls or every willingly put forth the time to learn. She had no interest in the game. It was for aristocrats, not the common Elf.  
“Falon’din, God of the dead, accompanied by Faelwen lavellan, former commander of the Elven armies.”  
The laughing and talking silenced to a dull roar as Falon’din walked with her arm in arm down the next set of steps and down onto the ball room floor. He of course was grinning like an idiot, holding her close. She could tell that this was bringing him some form of enjoyment. She on the other hand was scared having never been to a ball before and had assumed she would be able to just hide in a corner. Instead she saw no end in sight and realized there was no way she was going to be able to ignore the people there. This was nothing she could do to get out of this.  
“Da’len,” Mythal stated gently, offering them a weak smile, “Glad to see you are doing well.”  
“As always, mamae,” He purred, bowing slightly, a cat like grin pulling on his lips, “you should know a little squabble won’t keep me down~”  
She listened as Fen’Harel snorted as he stood next to Mythal. Looking between the two of them she couldn’t help but to wonder what was running through their minds. A squabble? He looked as if he was on his deathbed when she had seen him earlier. What was he playing at?  
“Those marks are new…” She added, looking at Faelwen, her weak smile disappearing complete, “Who gave you those.”  
“My decisions are my own, and none of your concern,” She stated, glaring up at the woman above her, “after all you aren’t the god I chose to worship. If you want another follower, beg my father to force another into following you.”  
Mythal’s expression was neutral, but her eyes burned with a rage she had never seen in her eyes before. She wasn’t sure whether to be proud of herself for getting underneath the skin of Mythal or the be afraid of what this would mean for her later. After all she wasn’t the most forgiving of the gods. Yet as Mythal spoke to her son, trying to get things with him going smoothly, she caught Fen’harel giving her an amused look.  
Once Mythal finally let them leave her presence they waked up the second sets of stairs near her, joining the rest of the crowd as the announcer continued on with announcing the guest that were arriving. Accepting a float of champagne she stood close to Falon’din as everyone continued on with their light talk and laughter, most now ignoring her since they knew they wouldn’t get an answer about her markings.  
When Falon’din noticed a close friend, telling her he would be back, she felt her heart sink. He was leaving her alone with these people? The prospect of being alone get under her skin. This wasn’t something she could fix with the swing of her blade. These were politicians and the members of the Elven Pantheon. Though some of these Elves had seen combat, none of them acted like seasoned soldiers. They all acted like what you would expect out of a human who saws born into high society- pompous and self center beyond belief. If it didn’t give them some sort of benefit, there was no point to it.  
Taking in her surrounds she tensed as she noticed her father moving through the crowd. This was already enough for her… having him there? It made this ball her ultimate hell. It made her question why she had agreed to this. After all she had the gall to walk out on Fen’Harel last night. It wouldn’t be so bad to do it a second night. It would maybe get the thought through to Mythal that this was something she didn’t want.  
“Faelwen, what the hell were you thinking?” Her father hissed as he grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the crowd and out onto an empty balcony.  
“What I was thinking was none of your business,” She sighed, pulling away from him, “Why does it matter to you?”  
“You understand my blood follows Mythal, correct?”  
“And my blood follows, Falon’din, if you happened to forget that both my mother and father proudly wore his markings.”  
“Did he force you into getting those markings?” He asked, “tell me he did it, Da’len and we can fix this mistake.”  
“Excuse me?” She hissed, taking a step back.  
How could he really think that she didn't do this by choice? She had spent all of her life around the man, and adored him. Her father knew this- at least he should have known this. When anything went wrong, even during the year her mother had been alive and married to him, she would cry for her babala and no one else. He was the only person she wanted after her father died; he was the only person who looked like her father.  
“This better have not been by choose, Faelwen, or I swear to Mythal there is no way I am ever letting you join the Emerald Knights or go back into the military.”  
Tensing at those words she clenched her jaw. That hit her nerves right on the head. He would not only take her career away from her but also take the one thing she wanted more than anything in the world? She could feel her blood boiling as she took a step back towards the door to leave him on the Balcony.  
“It wasn’t forced. I asked for this, and I wouldn't change it for the world. I know my blood, and I am proud to wear these markings- no matter that they mean to the Elven people.”  
“Get out of my sight,” He hissed, “I can’t believe you would do such a thing. You are just like your father… I could barely put up with him. Stay away from me; I want nothing more to do with you.”  
Biting the inner part of her lip so she didn’t go off on him she turned, opening the doors and heading back inside. She shouldn't have expected any less from him; he could barely handle her when she was a commanding officer over the military and had to have a slight filter on how she talked to people. Now that she was free to speak willingly? She wasn’t scared to lash out and tell people how things were or how she felt. The worst that would happen is a slap on the wrist; she wasn’t committing crimes against the people or the Evanuris by speaking her mind. So there was nothing more that could be done.  
Heading back towards where she had been earlier, where Falon’din had left her, she looked around hoping that he would be nearby. There was no way she was going to spend the night alone. Not when that meant that she could possibly have to deal with Fen’harel.  
As soon as she noticed where her Hahren was she walked over to him calmly, wrapping her arm around his. The friend he was with, a man with soft and gentle green eyes, offered her a smile as she grabbed her a champagne glass and handed it to her, taking her other one away from her. She mentally was questioning what he was doing until explained that he could tell she didn’t Like the taste and wanted her to try a different one and the one he had grabbed was his favorite. Smiling back at him she rested her head on Falon’din’s shoulder. The conversation went on for a little longer before his friend excused himself to say hello to a couple other friend’s, leaving them together.  
“So,” Falon’din stated, pulling her off to the side, “So what did your father want to speak to you about.”  
“My markings. I am apparently disowned, as I expected would happen. So I’m a free woman- you can make decisions for me now.”  
“It doesn’t work that way, Da’len,” He sighed shaking his head with a smirk, “Unfortunately now you get to deal with Fen’Harel and hope to the creators that he is willing to let you do as you wish… I wish you the best of luck with that; the man is as stubborn as a mule.”  
Tensing as she looked over at Falon’din she frowned. The little bubble she had left that held what little hope she had just popped at his words. She knew she shouldn't have gotten excited to think that her Hahren would be able to give her the freedom she craved back. Now she would have to find her way into weaseling the trickster god of the elven pantheon into letting her have free rein of her life again.  
Would she even be able to pull that off? Probably not, but it wouldn't be for the lack of trying. There was no way she was going to accept defeat that easily- not when it was her life and dreams on the line.  
Hearing someone cough behind her she turned around, her skin flushing as she looked at the man before her. It was Satan himself. Fen’harel stood there, hands behind his back as he cocked his head to the side and offered her a smile.  
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”  
“And if you were?” Falon’din asked, pulling her closer.  
“Because I would like at least one dance with my fiancé, if that is not too much to ask, Lethalin?”  
She heard a snort coming from next to her as Falon’din tightened his grip on her arm.  
“And if I refuse you that chance?” He asked, “dancing does sound like it would be a nice way to relax after the day I’ve had, doesn’t it, Lethalin?”  
Chuckling to herself she pulled away from Falon’din, kissing his cheek.  
“It's one dance, after that I am yours all night.”  
This was her chance. She could talk to him- reason with him so she could get her life back. After all she was sure he didn’t want her around all the time. His comment about wanting to meet the woman who was taking his free will away come to mind as she offered him a smiled and moved to walk with him to the ballroom floor, taking his hand as it was offered to her.  
As he spin her around, moving to rest his hand carefully at her waist as he continued to hold her other he offered her a smile.  
“You look beautiful, da’len.”  
“A compliment from the Dread wolf,” she mused, letting him guide her across the floor as she listened to the cellos that were being played nearby, “is that some kind of curse?”  
“Nothing of the sort,” He chuckled, “it is a genuine compliment, da’len.”  
“Do you need help moving something?” She teased, earning a smile out of the man as he looked her in the eye.  
“I could do that myself,” He mused gently, giving her a grin that would have melted anyone else's heart, she on the other hand was wondering what he was trying to get out of this, “Though, I can tell you have something gnawing at you.”  
“A question for you,” She admitted, poking away as she noticed the other members of the pantheon watching them, “seeing as my father disowned me for my markings, I know have to defer to you of all people about what I am and am not allowed to do.”  
“You would like to take your position in the army back?” He asked, smirking at her, “That doesn’t surprise me; you train your will to control magic and withstand possession- train your body to deliver and withstand punishment…”  
“Oh, you make that sound like another compliment, are you sure you don’t want anything?”  
“I admit, the misplaced and indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit,” He smirked at her, “but it is not I who wants something here, is it, da’len?”  
Flushing she glared at him. Indomitable focus? He was trying to distract her, wasn’t he? She had to remember this man was someone who had been rumors to have a different woman with him every night. She couldn't get herself distracted, yet as she thought this, her lips opening, her mind was not not connecting with them as she asked: “Indomitable focus?”  
“Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be… fascinating.”  
Blinking as she looked away from him, her flush going up into her ears, she couldn't help but wonder what she's was getting herself into trying to ask him for her own freedom. After all he was trying to dance circle around her instead of getting on with what she wanted… and she had to admit that Sylaise was right. This man was smooth, something she did not expect. Looking back at him she frowned, trying to think about how she could get him back onto the subject she wanted without him trying to flirt with her. The last thing she wanted was to flirt with the dread wolf.  
“Right,” She sighed, not wanting to met his blue eyes that pierced her own as if he was searching for something, “So, about my freedom, can I have it back?”  
“I don’t know, da’len, can you?”  
Groaning she glared at him, “may I have my freedom back? You want me around as much as I want to be around you.”  
“You assume I don’t Iike the presence of a beautiful woman, da’len.”  
“Stop that,” She hissed, moving her hand off his shoulder and punched it, “I am trying to ask you a legitimate question, and I want an actual answer.”  
She watched as the grin came off of his face and he sighed, looking away from her. This wasn’t a good sign… but she wasn’t going to sit through another dance to get an answer out of him.  
“I’ll make a deal with you,” he stated, looking at Mythal before looking back at Faelwen, “take just one month away from it all and get to know me. You can live with me if you wish; I have the rotunda where I can give you your own space. If by than you still are itching for combat and that life back, I will let you have it.”  
“Deal,” she stated, taking him up on it quickly as the song finally came to an end, “Now if you will excuse me, I would like to go back to the man I came with.”  
“As you wish, da’len.”  
Moving away from him, heading towards the stairs she tensed as she heard a bang, people screaming around her as she went to cover her head. Looking at where it had come from she noticed people coming out of the smoke, coughing and calling for their loved ones. Her hand, out of instinct, moved for her sword, but was disappointed when she realized she was unarmed. It was a mistake she would never make again if she ever came to one of these god forsaken balls. Moving quickly she tried to find Falon’din, only to have a hand grab her arm and pull her a different direction.  
“This way,” Fen’harel’s voice reached her ears just before another explosion went off, his other hand moving as he threw a barrier around the two of them and lead her to a different part of the stronghold to a part she never would have thought existed, “Are you injured?” He asked, moving with her through an Eluvian.  
Pausing as she looked at him, surprised to see actual concern on his face, his chiseled features still unfortunately beautiful despite the fear in his eyes and the way his nose and eyebrows wrinkled. Taking a deep breath she looked back to the Eluvian they just came through. She was fine, but the people within? It worried her that they just left when so many people were still left behind.  
“Don’t think of them,” He stated, squeezing her arm, “the other’s will take care of them. Are you alright?”  
The concern in his voice hit her in a way she didn’t expect as she smiled at him.  
“I am fine, Fen’harel,” She admitted, looking away from the Eluvian and over at him, “are you alright?”  
“Never been better.” He let go off her arm, looking a little more relieved, though the way he held himself showed how stressed he truly was. As he moved away from her he pressed a hand against another Eluvian, looking back at her, “You are staying with me tonight- no questions asked; I need to make sure you are alright and safe.”  
“I’ll be fine.” She argued, crossing her arms, “I can stay with ma Hahren.”  
“And what of our agreement? I said one month, da’len.”  
Swearing as she looked away from him she tried to decide what she would say to such a thing. After all she couldn’t go against her word, not when it meant her freedom. Giving in, without a word, she stepped past him and through the Eluvian. As she did so she couldn’t help but hope that he wasn't secretly some sort of axe murder.


	8. Inan Vianem (Eyes opened)

Gasping as the cold air hit her skin she turned, glaring back at Fen’Harel as he stepped through, “Where are we?”  
Of course she was already pretty sure where they were at. It was cold as all hell, covered in ice and snow, and there was nothing but mountains and trees for miles. To her knowledge this had to be the frostback basin- the last place she ever wanted to be. She had been born in the Korcari wilds, at the second strong hold Falon’din kept literally just for emergencies if his land was marched on so he had a safe haven for his people. It was the perfect place; no one was crazy enough to brave those wilds to find it, and it was warm- warmer than the frostback at least. It was within the borders of those wild that her childhood home had been until her mother died and her adoptive father forced her to move away.  
This cold would be her death.  
“The path to my stronghold,” Fen’harel shrugged as she looked away from him and up the path she could see through the mountains, “Tarasyl'an Te’las.”  
“Skyhold.” She stated, surprised.  
She had heard of the fortress. It had withstood time and wars. None had ever been able to make it past the front gate, let alone not die of hypothermia from the trek up the mountain. Faelwen couldn’t help be amazed that the fortress, which had been the site to so many Elven rituals, was his fortress. Skyhold, his. It made her wonder what his prowess with a blade was like more than anything as she grabbed her dress, lifting it up slightly, and started to walk.  
“You think you are going to make it up the mountain in that?” He asked, his voice laced with amusement as he pulled off the blue coat he had been wearing, “Take this Da’len. I would hate for you to freeze to death.”  
“Change in character?” She asked, snuggling against the fur that was around the collar, “First we met you didn’t want this engagement… if I die you don’t have to marry me.”  
“Yes, and Elgar’nan would have me paired with another Elf- presumably someone who doesn’t have the same benefits you do.”  
“Benefits,” She snorted, walking with him up the hill as he raised a barrier around them to keep the snow that was blowing around from chilling her to the bone, “I’m not going to fall for that, sweet talker.”  
“You say that as if you assume I am trying to get something out of you.” He snorted, shaking his head as he started walking a little head of her.  
Pausing he held his hand back, signalling for her to stop as he moved forward a little bit more. Hearing him cuss under his breath he looked back at her.  
“Do you trust me. D’len?”  
“As far as I can throw you,” She rolled her eyes, “Why?”  
She watched as he moved down closer to her, extending his hand.  
“I’m going to need you to trust me, and to not let go of my hand until we are safe within the fortress.”  
“Over my dead body!” She hissed, crossing her arms as she glared at him.  
What was he getting at? As she wondered this that was when she heard the groaning of the ground, the gnashing and gnawing of teeth that had haunted her nightmares.  
“Unless you listen to me, you get to deal with Elgar’nan’s agents- or worse: the Forgotten ones. So you pick: Death or the safety of Skyhold?”  
Swearing as she looked over her shoulder she didn’t like the idea of running or trusting him with her life. It was against her family’s ethos to run from a fight. It was why they were some of the strongest within the pantheon, only to ever fall in combat against their own blood. This was something she could handle. It wasn’t Elgar’nan himself, and if it was the Forgotten ones it was her duty to help take them down. At least Andruil made it seem as if it was with the way she had gone after them her whole life since before her father had ever been born.  
“Fen’harel, I can’t just run from this,” She admitted, “can we at least see that it is?”  
“As stubborn as your babala,” he hissed, grabbing her hand, glaring at her, “Your life is more important than your misplaced curiosity.”  
As his words were growled, crawling through her ears and making her shiver more than the cold winds against her skin, there was a green glow around them as she watched the world around them disappear in a sense. It all almost looked the same, but was a darker tint before it started to melt away into stone walls. As soon as the green around them disappeared he let go of his death grip on her hand, turning to her as anger filled his eyes.  
“Are you an idiot?” He hissed, the people who were still chattering away in the main hall looking their direction as he glared at her, “You could have died. Is your life so unimportant to you that you would stupidly fight without even your blade?”  
“I don’t need a blade.” She growled, pushing at his shoulders to get him further away from her, “I’m a mage we don’t need blades.”  
“Oh?” He snorted, his lips curling into a cynical grin as he cocked his head to the right, the rage mixing with amusement, “What, you would throw a fireball at them and hope they would go away? Hope that caging them in lightening would hold them back long enough to get you out of there? Do you want to end up like your parents?”  
Blinking at him as she took off hit coat she felt her chest tighten. It was true that her parents went down fighting. It was, after all, in the blood to fight… not only in her biological blood, but even her father’s adoptive family who raised him in secret were fighters. Her grandfather, before his death, being Falon’din’s high keeper and her mamaela having been one of his agents before she felt too old for it and went to making cakes and selling them for her own enjoyment. Her mother’s adoptive father being the commanding officer over the Emerald knights.  
Handing him his coat back she shook her head. Part of her was in disbelief that he would even willingly say such a thing to her. If he had known a thing about her he would have known how hard it hit her- the nightmares she had every night of the moment she had lost her mom… the trust issues she had with people in her life because she was always afraid of someone coming after her because of her blood. That was when it really hit her as her eyes started to water.  
“You assume that you know my thought processes, Dread Wolf,” She hissed, clenching her jaw, “but you don’t know me, you don’t know how I think or how I feel. I was trained to not care about giving my life for the people. You obviously were never trained as a warrior of our people.”  
Moving further away from him, walking towards the front door she paused for a moment and looked back at him, not surprised to see he was walking after her until she had stopped.  
“You are Mythal’s chosen, a spoiled rotten brat who is too cocky for his own good,” She spatted, turning to face him completely as she ignored the whispers from the followers that were still in the hall, “You and I both know you would be nothing without Mythal. I, on the other hand, crawled my way through the ranks. I earned my battle scars. So don’t lecture me on being like my parents; they are war heroes and are better people than you could ever aspire to be.”  
She was surprised to see the smile crack at Fen’Harel’s lips as the people in the hall went silent- the only sound to be heard was the crackling of the nearby fires to keep the room lit. Yet she didn’t care what they thought. Nor did she care if she insulted one of the false gods. She hoped she had insulted him enough to get him to leave her alone- deal or no deal. Even if it meant that this month was the longest in her life. All she could hope is he would forget the month and let her have her way so that he could get rid of her. That way she could devote herself to the people and figure out whatever the hell was going on. After all they needed to know who had attack Mythal’s strong hold and why any enemies were on his borders.  
Watching as he strode over to her with the grace of a feline on the hunt she felt her skin prickle, goosebumps on her skin as she glared at him. If he was anything like Mythal she knew that there was a seething rage that he was hiding as to not frighten his people. It made her almost afraid of him. Almost being the key word.  
“You’re right da’len,” he stated as he stood mere inches away from her, speaking only loud enough that she could hear him, “it was unkind of me to say such things.. But you should rest. You may take my room.”  
She froze, looking at him in utter confusion as she squinted at him. What was he doing? Was this a fake apology so he could get his way? Creators she had no idea what was going through his mind, and it bothered her. Faelwen was used to her soldiers who she could read like books. Yet the dread wolf had so many layers and so many different responses that she didn’t know what to believe. It almost reminded her of how Dirthamen changed his responses to everything to either rile people or to make them believe as he wished. The idea of the Dread Wolf doing such a thing wouldn’t be far fetched, after all; he had been close friends with the twin souls of the pantheon once upon a time.  
“I-what?” She asked, crossing her arms as she shook her head, “No, I will sleep in the rotunda. There is no way I’m taking your bed- not after the rumors I’ve heard. Hell I’d gladly sleep outside with a blanket near a fire.”  
“Oh?” He chuckled, “Well, for your knowledge those rumors are just rumors. No one has entered my room except for myself. So it is yours.”  
Wrinkling her nose at him as she continued to squint she finally sighed, giving in. She shouldn’t argue with him. Not with their deal or the fact she had already been rude to him herself tonight. She had already stood him up once, only danced with him because she wanted something out of him, and now she was arguing with him in front of his followers. In a way she almost felt ashamed of her actions; her parents had raised her better. Her Hahren had raised her to be better.  
“Fine.”  
Taking the hand he extended to her she followed him across the main hall and to a door to the left hand side, the closest door to his throne and the windows that were behind it. Once the door was closed she felt her skin flush, thankful that it was dark enough in the stairwell that he could not see. She was alone with the Dread Wolf. Sure she had been alone with her vhenan before, but that was her vhenan, not some man that she hardly knew.  
“So is this the part where I figure out you are an axe murder or something?”  
“This is not a cold case, da’len.” He laughed, urging her up the stairs as he walked behind her, “I promise no harm will come to you within these walls.”  
Snorting as she thought back to her own words she found that hard to believe. She made an ass out of herself out of sheer anger. There had never been a moment in her life where she had reacted in such a way solely because someone had gotten under her skin. Even as a child she knew how to hold her tongue- for the most part… she still made snarky or witty comebacks when she needed to even at a young age. There was something about the Dread Wolf that got under her skin and affected her in ways that no one else did. It made her worry about the month to come.  
Continuing up the stairs in silence she bit her lip. Was she really going to let him sleep in the Rotunda? Would there even be a bed made for him? She was starting to feel more and more guilty as she walked across the wooden floor. Once they made it too his room, walking up the last set of steps she paused.  
It was beautiful. Did he really live here? Part of her wanted to believe he was using this place just to mess with her. She had almost known the Dread Wolf to be a hermit, a lone wolf. Of course there were the rumors about his sexual prowess, but everyone of the Evanuris was landed with that rumor at one point or another. She had imagined him the type to have a place in the Arbor Wild with Mythal, to have somewhere more rustic that he stayed. This did not look like the room she had pictured. This was something she would picture out of a lover of the arts- someone who was a seeker of knowledge.  
“Like it?”  
He finally asked her as she moved, her fingers running over the bindings of nearby books.  
“Like it? Fen’Harel, this is beautiful,” she mused gently, smiling over her shoulder at him, “I never pictured you the type to have a library or the type to have balconies in your room.”  
“You have not heard my true origins than, Da’len. The bed is yours. If you need anything else, you need but to ask.”  
Biting her lip as she looked at him she sighed, “Wait, you can stay in here if you like; it’ll be more comfortable than the Rotunda.”  
She watched as his eyebrows furled, a frown pulling at his lip. His features gave away how unsure he was of what she was saying- that he was unsure what to say or think. Crossing her arms again, this time because she was cold, she looked down at her feet.  
“It’s not like it’s not normal- at least for me it is. I shared barracks with my soldiers.”  
“You didn’t live on your own?” He asked, moving towards her as she tensed, staring at him.  
“No, I saw no point. I was their commanding officer, but I was also their equal… you don’t build understanding and strong relationships with your soldiers by ignoring them and distancing yourself from them.”  
“Oh?” He finally offered her a smile, draping his coat back over her, “so there is humanity in you yet, da’len. I thought I saw it disappear there for a second down stairs.”  
“I only got that like you because you hit a nerve,” She admitted, clenching her jaw as she felt the thick coat brush against her skin, the fur tickling her neck, “you have a habit of that- throwing me off balance and getting under my skin.”  
“I couldn’t tell,” He teased, walking a couple paces away from her as he used his magic to light the fire, “I have a shirt you can sleep in if you don’t feel like wearing your dress to bed; I can imagine how uncomfortable that would be.”  
“Have you ever fallen asleep in armor?” She asked, taking the golden leaves out of her hair one by one as she watched him move.  
As he put logs in the fireplace she noticed the grin pull at his lips, as if he understood exactly what she was talking about.  
“Armor isn’t all that comfortable to sleep in… one of my least favorite experience in life.”  
“Oh?” she mused as she sat down next to where he was kneeling, “you’ve had worse experiences?”  
Biting her lip as she looked at his lips and back at his eyes as he almost ignored her, taking his sweet time to get the embers started. There was something about him that drew her in like a moth to the flame. What it was? She wasn’t sure. Hell she probably would never be sure. All she knew for sure was that he was more than the stories and the rumors, and that he was a mystery that she wanted to unravel. Even if it was just to better understand him. She had a month to unravel him, and she hoped it would be enough.  
“Does that surprise you?” he asked, giving her a sideways glance, his eyes dancing with amusement and joy at the turn of their conversation, “You understand I have to sit through meetings with Elgar’nan, right?”  
Laughing, snorting slightly she covered her mouth. She didn’t understand why that made her laugh so hard, but it did. She could only imagine what having to deal with that man was like. Her hahren had told her the horror stories. Looking down at her feet, which sat bare against the white marble and stone of his flooring, she couldn’t help but smile.  
“And is that the worst experience?”  
“The worst human experience, yes.” He mused, pulling away from the fire slightly as he sat next to her cross -legged, “And what is your worst experience?”  
That familiar ball started to form in her chest as she thought about it, continuing to look at her feet as she took a deep breath. Did she really want to talk to him about her mother’s death? She had barely known him for a few hours… it was something she hasn’t even truly told Thelven about. When she did talk about it it was the minor details of her nightmares, never about whom it was she watched die or whom it was that she had gone to after it happened. Could she even trust the Dread Wolf wuch things?  
Almost as if he had realized what he had done he frowned, leaning forward as he rested his hand on her knee.  
“I’m sorry, da’len, I forgot what Falon’din had told me,” He admitted, offering her a weak smile, “you don’t have to talk about it if you do not wish to.”  
She only offered him a nod as she finally looked up and out one of the many windows that spanned the room. Smiling weakly she couldn’t help but think how beautiful it all was. It offered a calm that she had only ever felt within her Hahren’s temple and stronghold.  
“Maybe someday when I trust you more hahren, but for now, I would prefer to keep it to myself.”  
“Hahren?” He teased, pulling his hand and feigning insult, “I am no elder.”  
“No?” she snickered, “are you not older than me, Hahren?”  
She watched as he shivered, wrinkling his nose slightly as he gave her a sideways glance.  
“I will take it as a compliment; it's a step up from the name I took as a badge of pride.”  
Tilting her head and raising her eyebrow she smiled at him, “Badge of pride?”  
“A story for another day, da’len, but you should get sleep.”  
“We should get sleep,” She corrected, standing up and offering him her hand, “I promise I don’t steal blankets.”  
“Says who?” He grinned, taking her hand and standing up, “a spirit?”  
“Ma vhenan,” She corrected, watching as he tensed and she flushed, “I- sorry…”  
“No, I’m sorry. Had I known,” He admitted, flushing himself as he pulled his hand away from her, “I should… Let me grab you something to sleep in.”  
Nodding nervously as she moved, holding herself, she started to look around the room. More specifically she moved behind his desk to get a better look at the other books. Something told her these were not the only books he had, but probably some of his favorite since there were here where no one else was. Pulling out the book about transfiguration she smiled. Would he really study something like this?  
Leafing through it she looked at the different creatures inside, not surprised when she didn’t find the thing she had always wanted to learn.  
“Enjoying my library?” She heard him ask, causing her to jump and drop the book as she cussed.  
Moving quickly she picked it back up and put it away before glaring over her shoulder at him  
“And if I am?” She asked, noticing the shirt he had grabbed for her. It looked as if it was made from wool, which she was grateful for.  
“I would see no issue; I have always loved the presence of scholars and students- anyone who seeks knowledge and wisdom really.”  
Smirking at that slightly she walked over to him, accepting the shirt as she took a deep breath.  
“Turn around.”  
“Excuse me?” He asked, confused, crossing his arms at her.  
“I don’t want you to see me!”  
“You know, if Mythal and Elgar’nan have their way, we will have to consummate this marriage in front of the other gods, right?”  
“Creators, no,” she hissed, pushing at him slightly, “just- turn around!!”  
He laughed, shaking his head as he spun on his feet, whistling as he moved to crack his neck. Shivering at the sound she mumbled to herself. As she took her necklace and belt off she sighed, wondering why she was so willing to even let him stay in the same room. She should have kicked him out. Yet it wasn’t as if he hadn’t already, maybe, seen her naked since he had walked in to Falon’din’s bathroom.  
As she finally took off her white dress and moved to put her shirt on she noticed him looking over his shoulder at her. Letting out a squeak as she threw her dress at him she listened as he laugh- truly laugh. Pausing as she looked at him, she felt a smile pull at her lips. It was more soothing than anything she heard before, the sound of it vibrating low as he smirked. It was slightly throaty, but it was sweet in tone. Putting on his shirt quickly she stuck her tongue out at him as he held her dress for a moment.  
“A present?” He tease forcing her to snort again, pushing at him.  
“I told you not to look!”  
“A beautiful woman changing in my room? You really think I could ignore such a thing?”  
“Stop it, sweet talker.” She stated, turning on her heel and walked to his bed, noticing the pelts and heavy blankets on it, “beautiful woman… where did you pull that out of, your ass?”  
He raised his eyebrows at her as he dropped her dress on the floor, moving to pull his own shirt off as he watched her carefully.  
“Has someone told you that you are anything but beautiful? If so I would find it a crime.”  
“Oh, you really want something, don’t you?” She chided, clicking her tongue slightly as she shook her head, “Shame you won't ever get anything out of me, Dread Wolf.”  
“And here I thought we were past that name, da’len,” he sighed, pretending to be disappointed though she could see the smiling pulling at his lips as he took his pants off, grabbing a different pair which were much looser than the other, “I’m wounded.”  
“Sure you are, Hahren, sure you are.”  
He offered her another smile, moving the blankets and curling up in the bed next to her. That was when she realized how awkward this was really going to be. The Dread Wolf was not another one of her soldiers. He was a member of the Evanuris, some of the strongest mages amongst the people. Someone to be feared. Yet here she was, joking and bullshitting as if he was one of her own soldiers. It was comforting, and so unnerving, to have him be so relaxed with her.  
Smiling at him awkward she settled within the blankets.  
“Well, I guess this is goodnight, Hahren.”  
“Indeed, Da’len,” he mused, moving and putting his pillow into place so he could sleep more comfortable, “May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent.”  
She snorted, throwing one of the throw pillows at him as he started laughing, throwing one back.  
“Go to bed,” He snorted, rolling over, “Otherwise the Dread Wolf will get you.”  
“Threatening!” She teased back, laughing harder as she closed her eyes.  
It wasn’t soon after they had both stopped laughing that her body forced her to go to sleep, under enough stress from the day's events to be more than happy to let sleep overtake her and forget who was in the bed next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inan Vianem- eyes opened  
> Tarasyl'an Te’las - the place where the sky is kept, another name for skyhold


	9. Geal’athe (fear)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus guys! My baby’s adoptive family moves in a week so everything has been crazy the last couple months and all my free time has been with them. I finally got some writing done though! So hopefully I’ll Have a more regular posting schedule from here^^

Looking around herself as she noticed the familiar grove outside on the Northeast most borders of Arlathan she tensed. Why was she here of all place? Sure she was happy to have one night away from her usual nightmares, but this place? It made no sense to her. Clenching her jaw as she moved forward she looked back towards the forest. That was where he had originally come from.  
They’ll make you tranquil.  
The familiar hiss from the abomination rang in her ear, forcing her to turn towards the sound as she looked for it in vain. Shaking her head, frowning she carefully moved forward. What ever was causing this, changing her dreams, she didn’t want any part of. Even as she willed herself with each step to wake up she felt as if she was more solid in this dream state- as if she was never going to get out.  
That was when she saw the first bit of movement. Pausing as she turned her head slightly, titling it as she looked in the direction of the movement, she wondered what it was. More so it worried her to think that she could have been weak enough that something would come to approach her like this. She had no idea what type of creature it was, or if it was her mind remembering the attack and replaying it for her.  
Faelwen learned quickly this wasn’t the case as another fear demon moved out of the forest.  
The closer it came to her she felt as if she couldn't move; her feet stuck in place as she fought to move. To do anything but stand like a deer in headlights. She tried to think of everything she could the change this, after all she seemed lucid enough to have some sort of control.  
Yet nothing about this dream was normal to her. After all demons and abominations had never come to her in her sleep. Her willpower had been trained to be stronger than to let them in.  
So what was different? She wondered this as the long talon of its finger moved, the demon placing it under her chin and lifting it slightly as it smiled at her. A shiver ran down her spine, the talon feeling sharp, yet the touch feeling light like a feather.  
“They will make you tranquil if you continue down this path, da’len,” the demon's words echoed around her, her eyes watering out of sheer frustration as she continued to try and move, “but I can help you… they will never be able to harm you.”  
Closing her eyes and sucking on a breath she felt the tears finally stream down her face. He was speaking to her worse fear to get what he wanted: a host. There was no way she was weak enough to agreed… but she had been weak enough to let it in. Was this the work of Tevinter mages or the forgotten ones? Hell she could have pinned it to Elgar’nan in a way; he would probably offer her sanity to a demon of any sort hoping to get rid of her if he knew who she was.  
“No,” she finally breathed, opening her eyes as she tried to imagine the type of spirit it was before, “you'll not have me, demon. Find someone else.”  
She watched as it tilted its head, the tentacles that came from the armed plating on its head moving along its body as it smiled at her. The talon like legs coming from its back moving around slightly, as if adjusting. What had it been before fear? It was a question most didn't know how to answer. The other demons were easy; they had a specific spirit that would become corrupted and create it, but fear? It was any spirits will gone wrong in one of the most terrifying ways.  
Was he faith? Purpose? Those were the two that came to mind as its talon moved from under her chin, caressing her cheek as it continued to grin at her.  
“You and I both know the Elven Gods are looking for anyway to get rid of you,” he purred, sounding sweet like honey, yet it's sub vocals were rough, frightening, “even your Hahren wants you gone… I can help you overthrow the Evanuris and bring peace to the Elven people- like you always wanted.”  
Watching as it moved away from her, circling her she felt her chest clench. No one know of the wish she had. Not even Falon’din, whom she told everything. Biting her lip she tried to focus. His words were hitting her, pressing the buttons to her every nerve… and that's when she knew he had to be purpose. He had to be, right? Trying to use the one thing she thought she was meant for to lure her more than her fear of tranquility. She had it, yet she feared she wouldn't be able to picture the spirit of purpose it once had been.  
As the tried she heard a growl, animalistic in nature, coming from the trees just to her left, the opposite side of where the fear demon had been to her. Tensing she squinted. What in creators name was there? She wondered this as she noticed the glowing red eyes in the darkness moving closer. It wasn't until the fear demon tried to approach her and come closer that it sprang from the darkness: a black wolf with many red eyes. Pausing she realized who and what it was. The Dread Wolf. Many had been told tales of the trickster wolf who walked the fade, playing within dreams. Some even claimed to have been saved by the Dread Wolf, a tale she would have never believed. Yet as she slept, terrorized next to the very man at the center of these tales, she saw him there in her own dream.  
He spoke no words, only snapped and snarled at the demon, growling and pouncing at it whenever it tried to come too close to her. Finally feeling her legs again she stepped back, the wolf moving completely in front of her as it growled its warning. It took only moment for the fear demon to relent, leaving her dreams.

Jolting awake she looked over at Fen’Harel, who was sleeping as peacefully as anyone ever could on a cold night. Watching as he adjusted himself, his eyebrows furling she let out a sigh. He had saved her. After every rude comment and assumption she had made of this man, he chose to save her. Why?  
She asked herself this as she moves, putting more of the blankets on top of him before getting out of the bed. The fire he had first lite, which had been almost full to bursting from the fireplace, was now a dull roar, the embers glowing in the night as she moved towards one of the glass doors.  
Opening it carefully, as to not wake him up, she stepped outside into the cold air. Noticing the sun on the Horizon she paused. She had slept the full night through? That nightmare with the demon had been going for that long? Shaking her head as she leaned against the banister she smiled slightly. At least she could appreciate the sunrise and a small sense of freedom this morning and she closed her eyes and tried to clear her thoughts of the demons words.  
Having spent an hour outside, enjoying the sunrise and the slight warming of the cold air, she finally decided to go back inside. Within the bed still slept the Dread Wolf, who had spread out on the bed and curled into the blankets for warmth. Smiling at him she looked around for his wardrobe. There was no way she was wearing that dress around the castle. Not that she didn’t like it, but it was far too cold in the basin to even consider wearing it. Opening the door next to the bed where she had seen him walk before she smiled. Opening a drawer she took out a pair of his pants, pulling them on as she looked for something to hold them up with.  
Though he had commented on her muscles, she was no wear near the size of the Dread Wolf. Of course as an Elf she had a very slim and sleek figure, as did he, but she still wasn’t able to fit. The pant legs were much too long, and the waist just barely big enough to fall off of her. Snorting to herself as she tucked in the shirt, finally finding a belt and putting it on she smiled. Gods if anyone saw her right now they would think she had gone mad. She never even wore Thelven’s clothes willingly.  
Yet there she was, willingly wearing the Dread Wolf’s clothes. She was sure Ithilwen would have some smart ass comment for her if she had seen her like this.. And Maeron would have made some sort of joke.  
Walking out of the area she was in, she moved, hand running along the bannister as she walked down the stairs. Though she knew it wasn’t exactly her place to, she wanted to explore the grounds. If she was to be spending time with him she wanted to know every inch of this place. After all if something happened and she was here, she would want to be able to help handle it. This was of course the excuse she told herself as she pushed the door open, stepping out into the main hall.  
A servant noticed her, offering a smile and moved towards her.  
“Good morning, miss,” She stated, her voice shaking as she fiddled with her apron, “would you like breakfast?”  
“I-” she paused, furling her eyebrows as she noticed a group of soldiers walking outside with their shields as they laughed, “I’ll wait for Fen’Harel to wake up; there’s something I want to do.”  
“Of course.” she had barely heard the words from the servant as she walked around a table that was off to the side, following the soldiers outside.  
Jogging after them she stopped, sitting on the stairs as she watched them. The sight was like nails on a chalkboard to her. Who in the creators name taught them how to use their shields? She wondered this as she bit at her thumbnail, stressed enough over their technic that her nervous tick was coming to the surface. Once she realized that she had taking a chunk of her nail off she gave in, standing up.  
It was nowhere near her place to teach them how to use their shields. Yet if she didn’t step in they could kill themselves. She could see it now- one of them not using their shield properly against a Tevinter mage.  
“Stop!” She called, noticing as they all tensed as they looked at her, “You’re using your shield wrong. If you face a mage or anyone with acid you are asking for death.”  
They all looked at her confused, as if they had no idea what she was talking about. Did he really accept people as his agents or soldiers if they had no training? It was a strange thought that he would even consider it. Sighing as she moved, grabbing one of the shields that had been left on the ground. To her it was unacceptable. It was learn to hold it properly, or die.  
“Point your shields down; if you don’t you are signing your death warrant,” She stated, moving into her stance and pointing it down just enough that it would deflect any projectiles, “unless you all like acid hitting you in face that is.”  
Realizing what she was talking about she watched as they all flushed, one of them coming forward, admitting exactly what she had assumed. They were new and had absolutely no experience. She had no idea why the Dread Wolf would recruit such people, but she didn’t want to question it further. Not when her every instinct made her want to find a way to teach them how to survive. Moving closer to them, offering them a smile she broke them up into two group, those with swords and those with shields. The training didn’t taking long to finally engrain it into them to point their shields down, not when she got frustrated and proved her point- shooting lighting at one of their shields.  
Her next step was to teach them how to properly use their swords. As she moved from Soldier to soldier, having them test the balance of their swords she could feel eyes on her. Looking over out of the corner of her eyes she notice him. The Dread Wolf, watching them from the top of the stairs. Smirking to herself she kept moving. Once she was finished she started to show them how to fight, teaching them how to hit against a sword and leaving them to practice for a moment and moving towards the bottom of the stairs. Sitting she watched them, hearing the padding of feet as she assumed he was coming to join her.  
“Sleep well?” He asked, moving to sit down next to her, giving her a confused look as he looked her over and realized she was wearing his clothes.  
Snuggling further into his shirt she smirked, “not really, but thank you…”  
“For?” he asked, giving her a smirk, digging for her to actually say what he had done for her.  
“Saving my ass,” She sighed, resting her elbows back on the stair behind them, leaning back slightly, “I never dealt with anything like that before… I was trained for it, but it’s definitely not anything like you are warned it would be.”  
“Indeed,” He nodded, smiling over at her, “So you decided to train my soldier for me to get your mind off of it?”  
“They don’t know how to properly use their shield!” She defended, flushing as he laughed at her.  
Why was he laughing? He should be grateful she was putting her time into them. After all she could have just used some eluvian and gone back to Falon’din’s temple, but no. She stayed.  
“Would you really prefer that they not know what they are doing and get themselves killed?” She asked, looking over at the men.  
The way the fumbled and tried to learn reminded her of a child, yet she knew most of them were her age or older. It made her wonder that was going on and why they were the way they were. Yet she knew that she probably would never get the answer. After all she was lucky enough he even lightly opened up about what little bad experiences he talked about having last night. She was pushing her luck, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. Not with her freedom on the line.  
“You act as if I do not come and train them myself.” he sighed, moving to pull his brown hair back into a bun, “I just so happened to sleep in, da’len.”  
Blinking she looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. He trains them himself? He doesn’t have an agent do it or his high keeper? Chuckling to herself she shook her head, looking away from him. There was so much about him that was a mystery. Part of her wanted to figure him out, the other was scared of what that would mean for them and whatever weird relationship they had going at the moment.  
“My name is Faelwen,” She finally stated, tilting her head towards him, “it feels weird to have you call me da’len.”  
“If there are to be introductions,” He mused gently, looking over at her, “my name is Solas.”  
“Solas?” She asked, moving to stand up when she noticed one of the soldiers having a hard time with the move she had taught them, “I like it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta help that kid before he lobs off someone's limb.”  
“You act as if that is the worst thing to happen during training, Faelwen.” He called, causing her to freeze where she was at as the men around her started to laugh.  
Had worse things happen? What could have possibly been worse than losing a limb? Was he teaching them magic and have something go wrong? Thinking about it she decided she didn’t want to have that questions answered. Shaking it off, walking back towards the soldier, she couldn’t help but shiver as he offered her a shit eating grin. Did Solas make that comment to get under her skin?  
Grabbing the sword from the man she moved, stabbing it into the ground as she started to man handle him- forcing him into the proper stance.  
“You are going to stopyourself from making proper thrusts and stabs at your enemy if you stand around like an awkward idiot,” She sighed, forgetting she wasn’t talking to one of her own men, “bend your knees and hold yourself like this.”  
“Y-yes ma’am.”  
“Don’t ma’am me.” She shot back, glaring at him, though she still smiled, “I’m not your officer, just a civilian interested in not letting you all kill yourselves.”  
He nodded at her, pulling his sword out of the ground as he went back to training. She could tell he was still having a hard time, but was doing slightly better than he was just a moment ago. Moving out of there way she watch Solas out of the corner of her eye. She wasn’t surprised to see him stand and approach her.  
“So,” He drew out the word, his facial expression neutral as he looked over at her, “You owe me a date; maybe trying frilly cakes?”  
“You really want to try those cakes with me?”  
“Something to bond over,” He waved off, “I gave the one I had bought for you to my high keeper. Apparently they are also her favorite.”  
Snorting as she shook her head she turned towards him, arms crossed.  
“So you want to pull me away from training these heathens to go eat frilly cakes?”  
“You make it sound like such a terrible idea, Faelwen…”  
“It’s not,” She smiled, nudging him, “Let me make sure they aren’t going to kill each other and we can go.”  
He nodded moving away from her and walking back inside as she continued her work. She wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do; she thought he looked fine enough in the loose clothes he was wearing, but she shrugged it off. He would do as he wished. Once she was finally done she moved up the stairway, following where he had gone.  
Looking around she finally gave up, going up to his room to look for him, taking two steps at a time so that she could get up there quicker. As great as the idea of relaxing and eating frilly cakes sounded, she wasn’t sure she wanted to spend that much time with him. Not after the fact of how Falon’din had fallen in love with Andruil- at least not based off of the story that he had told her as a child. The sheer idea of thinking she could spend enough time with the Dread Wolf to love him not only sounded observed, but it scared her.  
Moving off the last steps she looked around for him. Noticing him laying clothes down on the bed she paused. Did he have someone grab clothes for her? Smiling at the thought that he would be worried about such a small thing hit her in a way she didn’t expect. She moved, walking up behind him as she looked around his shoulder at the clothes.  
“You didn’t have to; your clothes may be baggy, but they are comfortable, Solas.”  
Listening to him swear as he jumped, she snorted and giggled. What made it all all so much better was that he tripped over himself, falling into the bed. Laughing hard, bending over she could feel tears forming in her eyes from laughing so hard.  
“Da’len!” he hissed, glaring at her, “ Really? Do you not know better than to sneak up on people?”  
“I’m wounded!” she cried, collapsing and landing on the bed next to him as she acted upset and wounded, “You demoted me to da’len again.”  
He laughed, causing her to give up her act as she smiled, laughing again as he grabbed the shirt he had a servant get for her and threw it at her.  
“You are unbearable,” He sighed, smiling as he moved to get off the bed, “If you would like to change, there is clothes there for you. I will wait down stairs.”  
“Don’t want to peak?” She snorted, “That’s a first.”  
Moving to take the belt she was wearing off she shook her head as she watched him smirk. Throwing his belt at him he laughed, leaving her in his room to change. Of course she changed quickly, more excited about going to eat frilly cakes than she should have been noting her company. Jogging down the steps she moved quickly, knowing for a fact she would take him to her grandmother’s shop; no one made better deserts.


	10. Esalatha (a Date)

Walking with solas through the market district she looked around. It was still as lively as she had expected, but there were more eyes on her than usual- on them. After all they were now the targets of whatever rumors anyone wanted to make. Seeing as he had a reputation as a womanizer and her being known as the prudish workaholic… It would be a wonder if they didn’t think something was off. Feeling his hand rest on the small of her back as he leaned into her she felt her face flush.  
“Ignore them,” He whispered in her ear, making her shiver as she glared over at them, “They have nothing more interesting to do than assume what they don’t understand.”  
“Easy for you to say.” She snapped back, still glaring him as she walked a little faster to get his hand off her back, “You’re a member of the Evanuris. People look up to you. I’m a commoner. The words they say about me destroy any chance I have at a normal life. You’re used to not having a normal life.”  
Shaking her head as she jogged up a pair of stairs, Solas following close behind her in silence she wondered why she was really willing to do this. She could have faked being a trophy wife and did what she wanted on the side in retrospect. After all it wasn’t as if people had to know she was working with the Army or even the Emerald Knights. Yet as she moved through the markets looking for her grandmother she understood why she had to do this. An arranged marriage was the last thing she wanted and a trophy wife was one thing she wasn’t. If she was going to be forced into a marriage things were going to go her way at least slightly.  
Finally catching sight of her grandmother she smiled, jogging over to the stand and moving behind the front of the stall. Noticing someone waiting there she smiled, moving to help get them what they needed as her grandmother come back out with the next batch of cakes she had made. Smiling at the woman she moved to mark of the inventory as Solas stood off to the side silently as he watched them.  
“Back already?” Her grandmother asked, a knowing grin on her face as Faelwen snorted, “Are you taking her up on her offer?”  
“This would actually be a date,” He mused, Faelwen tensing as she looked at the ground, “I gave the cake I had bought to Faelwen to my high keeper since she stood me up that night.”  
Date.  
That word rang in her ears, her grandmother’s words going through one ear and out the other. When he had first asked her back at Skyhold she had been happy just working with soldiers again and training them. The words had never even hit her. Yet now? They scared her. A date. Not that she had never been on one… no Thelven had taken her on dates as much as humanly possible with the difference in their work schedules. But a date with the Dread Wolf?  
What would her papae think of this if he were still alive?  
“Da’len?” Her grandmother’s words finally come through her ear, snapping her back to reality as she blinked over at her, “Where you here for a reason?”  
“I- yes,” She smiled sheepishly, “I walked out on eating frilly cakes with him, so I thought no better place to come.”  
Her grandmother’s face lit up as she shook her head, “Oh Da’len, you should have warned me! Come I have a table in back you both can sit at and not deal with the eyes. Come, come.”  
Blinking as her grandmother ushered them into the back she wondered why she was so excited. It was almost as everyone in her life beside Falon’din and Dirthamen were plotting against her to make this work. She had never seen the woman so excited for her to bring someone around in her life. Even when she brought Thelven around she was never this excited.  
Moving to sit down she was surprised when Solas moved around her, pulling the chair out for her. It wasn’t something she had expected out of him. Yet she wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting anymore from this man. He was starting to prove that the things she had heard were wrong, and something about that scared her. It made her feel so neutral about him that she would joke with him the way she did her soldiers. What if she fell for him?  
That thought scared her the most as her grandmother moved away, taking care of a customer quickly before moving to grab one of each type of cake that she made. She watched as she happily spoke with customers who were still deciding what they wanted, talking about how her granddaughter had a date. It almost as if it was first nature for this woman to be so excitable, which it wasn’t. She was a follower of Falon’din, her skin marked from head to toe in his marking. The people who followed him, though they were passionate, they were reserved people.  
After all he was the God of the dead… it would be surprising if they weren’t more reserved than other member’s of the Evanuris followers. Yet the people she told got just as excited as her grandmother did, asking how it was going and how she like the Dread Wolf. It was almost as if the common working Elves loved the idea. Squinting as she leaned back in her chair she heard Solas cough, catching her attention as she looked back at him.  
“More interested in what they have to say I see?”  
“Why are they so excited?” She asked, still confused as she looked down at the cakes her grandmother had set down for them, “It seems those who are unmarked look at us with disdain, yet the marked are so excited…”  
“Because the slaves of the Evanuris know who I truly am,” he sighed, cutting the caramel flavored cake in half and handing her one of the pieces with a smile, “Something I hope to show you so that you can look past the misconceptions your adoptive father filled your head with. Now enjoy the date for at least a second, please?”  
Smiling in defeat she accepted her half graciously. He was right. She needed to enjoy this, or at least pretend to. That was the least she could do if they were both going to be saddled with each other. She had to remember that he didn’t come into this engagement willingly, either, but that he was willing to make it work. That was the least she could offer him.  
Grabbing her fork she moved, grabbing her first bite as she watched him take his. She noticed as he paused, his head tilting slightly as she looked down at his half. It made her wonder what he was thinking.  
“I have heard of cake before, but I didn’t think it would be so... sweet,” He mused, a smile curling his lips as he moved to take another bite, humming in content as he looked up at her, “What flavor is this? I have never tasted anything like this before.”  
“Caramel,” she smiled, watching him with amazement. He had never had cake or caramel before? She giggled internally as she watched him playing with the caramel as if he had never seen something like it before. It made her wonder how he had never had it before. Did he keep himself locked away from the world except during war times and for the meetings? Shaking her head she finally took her first bite, moaning slightly as she smiled and leaned back. Pausing as she looked up at Solas she noticed the look of surprise on his face, a line of caramel on his chin threatening to get stuck in a lock of his sandy brown hair.  
“What are you looking at?” She asked, laughing harder now as he cocked his head.  
“You just moaned. Is it that good?”  
“You don’t like it?” She asked, moving to grab a napkin for him as he smiled at her.  
“It’s perfect. It has this perfect texture that’s absolutely divine, and the caramel? It’s perfect. Its this perfect sweet without being overwhelming. You’re grandmother is a talented woman, Faelwen.”  
Leaning forward as he laughed, she cleaned off his chin, earning a confused look from the man as she smirked. Did he really not notice the caramel on his chin? Leaving the napkin near him she moved, looking to see if her grandmother had the Jasmine tea flavored ones that people loved so much. It wasn’t her favorite, but she thought he might. Finally finding it she grabbed one out and cut it in half, giving him a bite and setting it to the side. She could give it the Thelven later. At that thought she paused, frowning as Solas looked at the cake in front of him.  
“You’re not going to have some?”  
“No,” she shook her head, looking down, “It’s my least favorite flavor.”  
He hummed in understanding, taking a bite before pausing and spitting it back out as he frowned. She raised an eyebrow as she watched him try to clean his tongue off. She couldn’t help but giggle at his distressed expression as he frowned at her.  
“Are you trying to kill me? That flavor was... “  
“Horrible?” She mused, “Glad I’m not the only one who doesn’t like her tea flavored cakes.”  
“Tea,” He hissed, frowning more now as he moved it away from him, “I detest the stuff. I remember when Falon’din had me try Oolong tea for the first time. I wanted to cut my tongue out.Maybe one of the worse experiences of my life.”  
Laughing harder now at this she covered her face with her hands. Finally, someone who hated tea as much as she did. Even the smell would make her sick. She wondered if it made him feel the same way as she moved, grabbing a coffee flavored cake.  
“How do you feel about coffee?” she asked, watching as his face lightened up and he looked at her confused.  
“I’ve… never had coffee before. Though I have heard it tastes good.”  
“You really haven’t have coffee?” She asked, amused, handing him his half before taking a bite out of her own and smiling. Wiping a crumb off her chin she smiled at him, covering her mouth as she spoke as to not be rude, “I think you will love it. It has a smooth yet bold taste. Strong, and perfect. I usually don’t socialize unless I’ve had coffee.”  
He snorted, looking down at it skeptically now that she had given him something that he didn’t like. She watched as he took a careful and small piece out, taking a bite with his teeth versus just sticking it in his mouth like he had done before. It was like watching a child try different foods for the first time. As his eyes widened and he looked at her she watched as he smirked, leaning back into his chair. When his eyes closed and he hummed in appreciation she knew she had probably helped him find his favorite cake so far.  
“Like it?” She asked, wanting to confirm before she got any bright ideas of making him trying the actual drink.  
“It’s- words can’t describe how amazing this tastes,” He mused, moving to sit back up as he took another bite, talking with his mouth full and not even thinking about his table manners, “Does the drink taste like this? I’ll have to try it.”  
Snorting, giggling slightly as she took another bite she shook her head. A grown man was sitting in front of her and he was acting like a kid in a candy store. It was a surreal moment that reminded her he was just as human as her, with experiences that were different than her own. This moment seemed to tear down the wall she had put up, holding him in a different place than her when it came to the people. After all most of the Evanuris acted as if they were above the Elven people, even warred among themselves and put the people in the middle of it to satisfy their needs. Even the war they were in with the Forgotten Ones had the people right in the middle. Yet Solas seemed different.  
After a little while longer, solas determining which cakes he liked and what he didn’t he smiled at her, looking more content than she really had expected him to. The happy smirk that adorned his lips was perfect, heart melting even. It made even her smile, and usually a simple smile or smirk from someone she didn’t know never affected her. Yet here she was, things changing around her more by the second it seemed.  
“Walk with me?” He asked, moving to stand up, “There is this beautiful lake in the hinterlands I think you will like- beautiful waterfall, the mountains are full of life this time of year and the flowers are wondrous.”  
Agreeing she moved to stand up, Solas pulling her seat out for her as he smiled. Smirking back she stood, walking with him out of her mamaela’s shop. Of course he grandmother smiled at them, telling them to come back anytime as they left. It made her want to glare the woman down, but she couldn’t help but smile. The woman’s excitement was infectious. It made her even forget about the looks from the unmarked elves that walked alongside them.  
Pausing, walking slowly with Solas as they moved through the markets to the Eluvian that would get to the southern part of Thedas she looked over at him.  
“You seemed surprised when you saw me with my markings,” She mused, hands behind her back as she looked at the scenery of the markets, booming with life- the flowers bright in color and the trees tall, “Yet you bear the markings of Mythal… so why does it surprise you?”  
“She gave these to me when she gave me life,” he admitted, looking over at Faelwen with a neutral expression, “A reminder as to whom I owe my very existence to. And you? Why did you choose to be marked? Is your adoptive father not a follower of Mythal, a lord among her people?”  
“He is,” She sighed, looking down, “it was done as a statement to the rest of the Evanuris. I have always been expected to follow a certain path. Even me choosing to transfer from my college to the next to learn how to you battlemagic was frowned upon. I want to live my own life, and I have tried so hard to be who I want to be. So letting Falon’din mark me was a fuck you to the rest of the Evanuris for trying to tie me down.”  
“For keeping you from growing as a person,” He mused, frowning slightly as he looked away from her and back at the path they were walking, “if it means anything, I approve of the statement, though if you ever wish to have your markings removed… I can do so.”  
She looked at him, raising an eyebrow before letting their walk return to a comfortable silence. Stepping through the Eluvian she found herself already on a hill top, a small pond next to them as she heard the rushing of nearby water. Looking around she noticed a small waterfall and smiled. Was this the place he was speaking of?  
Looking at him skeptically she listened as he laughed, telling her that this wasn’t the place he wanted to show her. That was when he took her hand, causing her to flush as he lead her up a nearby hill as he talked to her about his youth- a fight he had once had here with a pride demon before Mythal found him. She had of course heard his words, but she was distracted by the fact that he so easily grabbed her hand not thinking a thing of it. Was he really what people thought her to be? Wrinkling her nose she watched him, the excitement on his face only growing as they walked up the last part of the hill.  
That was when her eyes caught sight of the water ahead of them. Gasping she blinked, admiring the view. It was beautiful. The water was clear enough that you could see the bottom of the lake- fish swimming in peace at the bottom. Along the water’s edge were various patches of Elf root and blood lotus. Letting go of his hand she walked towards the water's edge, gingerly sticking her feet in as she squealed.  
“It’s cold!”  
“Well, obviously; it’s spring, Faelwen.” He snorted, walking a little further up.  
Padding after him, her feet making splashes in the water she laughed to herself. He of course used the bridge to get him over to the small island, Faelwen trudging straight through the water as she gasped and whined about how cold it was, sticking her tongue out at Solas as he laughed at her. Moving out of the water she moved to sit with him under the tree he had picked. Laying out she shivered, smiling up at the clouds.  
“You never take the easy way, do you?” He mused, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the sky with her.  
“Where is the fun in being easy or taking the easy way to anything?” She asked, looking up at him with a smile as she watched an expression cross his face that she had never seen on him before.  
“Why did you let the demon into your dream?” Solas asked, looking down at her.  
Shifting uncomfortably she looked away from him and back out at the water. It was never that she let it in. The fear demon had forced its way in when she was already scared and out of her element, getting in because of its own forcefulness, not her lack of training or lack of fighting it. Closing her eyes she thought back on it. It had never been uncommon for her to have nightmares about her time on field, though her mother’s death was what usually filled them. Finally opening her eyes back up she sighed.  
“Trust me, I fought. Something felt wrong… but he forced his way in because of everything going on in my life now. I have never been more afraid of what was going to happen to me than I have been in the last forty-eight hours.”  
“Only you can allow others to take your freedom away, Faelwen,” He whispered, watching her a she adjusted next to him, sitting up and hugging her knees, “I only made the agreement so that I could force you to get to know me- see me for more than the rumors that the loyalists to the Evanuris spread about me. You have your freedom, Faelwen.”  
“You say that,” she sighed, her eyes watering a she rested her forehead on her knees, “But I don’t feel it. The career I had worked for was taken away from me by Mythal, and you and I are being forced into an arranged marriage. That doesn’t bother you at all? That the Evanuris have so much rule over your life when you yourself are one of them?”  
She watched from the corner of her eye as he smiled up at the clouds. What was he thinking? Did it really not bother him that much? Did he know something she didn’t?  
“In your dream the demon tried to use your want to bring peace to the Elvhen, is that what you have always wanted?”  
“Yes,” She sighed, rubbing her eyes against her knees to get rid of the tears as she looked up at him, “I want to get rid of the hate the Evanuris bring to our people… the freedoms they take away. I have seen what the refugee camps look like- seen the work that Sylaise and Falon’din are trying to do to help them… It’s failing because the rest of you don’t seem to care at all that your war is displacing your followers- your slaves. Good people who deserve more than The Evanuris gives them.”  
“And you think destroying that structure the Evanuris have built will help the Elvhen?” The question agitated her as she glared at him.  
He had heard what the demon said to her in her dream. Why did he have to ask her to clarify what he heard? She understood it was probably a terrible idea taking such powerful mages away from the people. Yet there were others that could take their place- war veterans who understood what was at stake and were getting just as strong as the Evanuris. Faelwen being one of them.  
“You make it sound like I support whole sale murder.” She hissed, glaring at a fish that was swimming by, “I want the Evanuris to step down and stop controlling the Elvhen. We are a free people and are the ruling class above the other races. Yet you all squabble among yourselves.”  
“And?” He asked, his tone letting her know that he knew she had more to say.  
“My dream has always been to join the Emerald Knights, to be more to the people and be there to help them on the day that the Pantheon crashes- we all know it will… at least us seasoned veterans can see it’s going to happen. The structure of the Evanuris has been failing since whatever happened to Elgar’nan to make him into the thing he is… I’ve heard the stories. At least the tales of what everyone thinks happened to him. Ever since he changed the pantheon has been falling.”  
“When that day comes,” he sighed, resting a hand on her shoulder, “I think you will be a great leader for to Elvhen- to our people. I just hope that day doesn’t come soon.”  
Snorting she looked over at him, smiling and grateful that he didn’t think she was crazy for what she wanted. Opening up to him and admitting such things was probably a terrible idea; he was still a member of the Evanuris and could tell them anything she had just said. Tensing at the thought she moved to stand up, offering him a weak smile.  
“As fun as this date has been, the sun is starting to set, and I would like to get to Skyhold before it gets too cold in the Frostback basin.”  
She watched as he stood up. He looked at ease as he moved with her across the bridge and down the path back to where the Eluvian was placed. Watching as he stuck his hand against it, reprogramming it she furled her eyebrows. What was he doing? Stepping through after him she paused, surprised to see the inside of Skyhold. There were down in the lower chambers, surrounded by books, a small desk nearby. Following him up the steps she smiled, looking around.  
Every piece of this place that opened up to her was more enchanting and beautiful than the next. It made her wonder what the hell he did with so much space. Once they were in the main hall she could hear the people whispering around them. That was when one of his agents approached him, frowning.  
“Fen’Harel,” they stated gently, leaning in, “Andruil has made her lover as her chosen.”  
“Ghilan’nain?’ He asked surprised as Faelwen tensed next to him.  
That was her last nerve.  
Ghilan’nain? The flighty ass hole she hated having to deal with whenever she was looking for Andruil? The woman who took care of the Halla that went with the Elvhen into battle? She of all people was made a member of the Evanuris? Almost as if Solas could sense the distress in her as he stood next to her, his hand went to the middle of her back and rubbed at it comfortingly. Pushing his hand away she glared at him, storming into the rotunda that she knew was nearby as she tried to calm down.  
“Of all the people, they chose that air-head?” She hissed to herself, not realizing that Solas had followed her, “They let another person become part of the Evanuris? Make it an official nine instead of eight, and yet tell me they are scared I’d join their numbers?”  
“Faelwen,” Solas’s voice was low and warning as her approached her, “It’s because Ghilan’nain is the way she is that they probably accepted it.”  
“So they are fine with destroy the life of someone who can actually help the Elvhen people but raise an idiot up on a pedestal?” She finally screamed, tears forming in her eyes as she shook from sheer frustration.  
“Faelwen,” He sighed, his hands resting on her shoulders as she glared off at the wall past him, “Some things aren’t meant to be.”  
“Not meant to be? She hissed, her voice only raising higher as she pulled away from him, “I don’t want to be chosen; I just want my life.”  
“Faelwen-” He tried to move towards her as she pushed him away, crying as she glared at him.  
“No! Stay away from me,” she hissed, “Fuck all of you. You are fine with taking my rights away? Someone who actually has a brain and can help? But want to let someone in because she’s been sleeping with Andruil? Fuck that. Get out of my face before I burn it off.”  
“Faelwen, please.” Solas pleaded gently, trying to pull her into his arms as she shoved him away, her eyes glowing ever so slightly as she hissed at him.  
“Get out!” she screamed one last time.  
She watched as Solas sighed, looking hurt and defeated as he left the room. Yet she didn't care. She was still too upset over the fact that just days after taking everything away from her out of fear she would be chosen as the next member of the Evanuris they raised a bimbo up into their ranks. Sitting in the chair at the desk that was in the middle of the room she rested her forehead against the oak.  
Crying harder as she tried to calm herself down. Her world was crashing around her and she had no idea what to do. Giving up, wiping her tears away, she grabbed one of the books that was on the desk to distract herself. There was no way she was leaving the rotunda now. It would just lead to more fighting. Opening the book she read, sniffling and gasping for air as she tried to stop her tears. This was how she fell asleep, book in hand, curled up at Solas’s desk.  
When she awoke in the morning she had a blanket draped over her shoulders and a cup of warm coffee waiting for her, a caramel cake sitting next to it with no note or anything to state whom it had been from. Yet even then she knew left it for her.


	11. Evanuris

Setting the book she was holding down she moved, pulling the blanket closer to her as she grabbed the coffee, taking a sip. It was a little stronger than she liked, but it would definitely wake her up. Smiling as she shook her head she couldn’t believe he had gone out of his way to do this. After all she had pushed him out last night. Shaking her head as she moved, looking through the things he had on his desk she pulled out a book that looked interesting enough. Yet upon opening it she felt her skin boil.  
It was some idiots biography about when Solas was made a member of the Evanuris. Sure it shouldn’t have got under her skin as much as it did, but by the creators why was it that she was the only one the Evanuris was afraid of becoming one of them? She had been raised to know their misdeeds, and she never wanted to be one of them in the first place, but it still hurt. The fact they were so willing to take her life away from her over something so simple… it got under her skin.  
Her eyes twitched as she turned slightly, looking to see whom it was that was coming into the rotunda. Seeing the strong features of Solas’s face she looked away, frowning. He was probably the last person she wanted to see right now. Especially after his comments last night about why he assumed Ghilan’nain was chosen. Sighing to herself she took another sip of her coffee, setting the book she was looking at aside and replacing it with a book about war tactics that a famous general had written.  
“Good morning, Lethalan,” Solas stated gently, walking over to her, “how did you sleep?”  
“Still not in the mood to talk.” She stated, taking another sip of her coffee, turning the page as she judged the gorilla warfare tactics the general was writing about.  
“The coffee not to your liking?” He asked, his head tilted slightly, his sandy brown hair moving to the side.  
“The company isn’t to my liking.” She snapped back, glaring up at him, “But since you asked, yes, the coffee isn’t to my liking, either.”  
Solas looked at her confused before she went back to the book she was reading. It wasn’t fair for her to take her anger at the situation out on him, but by the creators she was pissed off and knew anyone who talked to her until she calmed herself down again would get their head gnawed off. Hearing his feet against the stone she closed her eyes. If he touched her… she was sure it would turn to a screaming match.  
Opening her eyes and looking up she watched as Solas looked through his papers, his expression a cold neutral as he grabbed what he needed. Noticing the pain in his eyes she felt almost guilty, but went right back to her reading as she listened to him leave the room without another word.  
Had she been too harsh on him? She probably had been. This gnawed at her as she leaned back in his chair, trying to focus on what she was reading. Yet even as she tried all she could think of was yesterday… of their date. She had opened to him in a way she had never opened up to Thelven. He was her vhenan and she had never told him about her want to protect to Elvhen- to throw down the Evanuris and start new. Sighing she rubbed at her temples. Why were such small things getting under she skin?  
It was a simple date with a simple man- the man he wanted her to see. But in the end he was just like the others. At least that’s what she kept telling herself so the guilt wouldn’t eat away at her. After all he probably would have done the same in her shoes.  
That was when she stopped, frowning.  
No, he wouldn’t have. He would have tried to talk it out with her and showed his point as to why he was upset. He had done nothing but try to be open with her… and yet she was as hot and cold at the Evanuris themselves with him. That was something he didn’t deserve.  
Sighing as she got up, setting the book down she finished her coffee, which had now gone cold, and walked out of the rotunda. Looking around she noticed the soldiers going outside for their daily training sessions. Of course she had followed them out, remembering Solas’s words about training them. Yet outside awaiting them was one of Solas’s agents. Furling her brows as she sat on the steps she wondered where he was at. Not that it was truly any of her business. After all out of the two of them he was the one with the free will to go wherever he pleased without a target on his back.  
“Looking for Solas?” On of the agents asked, moving down the stairs towards the soldiers and the other agents, “He should be in the war room.”  
“Thanks,” she sighed, offering him a smile, “do you need help with those guys?”  
“Nah, what you taught them yesterday was a great help. Still working on them holding their shields pointed down, but they are doing better than yesterday.”  
The agents waved her off as he spoke, jogging down the stairs to join the training group. Tensing as she watched for a moment she moved to stand, one foot on the top step as she looked out over the courtyard. There was so much life here, and Solas chose to be in the war room? It hit her that she might have taken his usual place to work. Shaking her head she moved back inside, moving silently through the main hall towards the room that lead to the war room.  
Fidgeting with her shirt she realized she was still in the same clothes as yesterday and probably looked terrible. Creators she hoped he didn’t care what she looked like. There were so many worries that ran rampant through her mind the closer the got to the war room. Pausing at the door she had half a mind to turn back and just go back to his room and wallow on his bed and pretend that last night didn’t happen, or her shit attitude this morning.  
Yet the signal from her brain to her hand didn’t exactly register, at least that's what she assumed, her hand moving to knock on the door. Hearing someone tell her she could go inside she pushed the doors open gingerly, freezing as soon as the doors had opened.  
The Evanuris.  
What were they doing in Skyhold? Better yet, why had she not thought of the possibility that Solas was in a meeting instead of looking for another place to work on what he need? Biting her lip as she noticed Falon’din and Dirthamen raising their eyebrows at her, wondering what she was doing there. It was a question she now didn’t know how to answer as she tried to think of her way out of this one.  
“Morning, Lethalan,” Solas stated gently, offering her a weak smile, “Care you join us? After all my people will be yours soon… you might as well be in the meeting.”  
“She’s not a member of the Evanuris.” Elgar’nan hissed, glaring at her, making her feel smaller than an ant.  
“Yet you let Ghilan’nain in the meetings well before she was a member of the Evanuris.” June shot back, glaring at the man before offering Faelwen a smile, “I see no issue with her being here.”  
“I second that,” Sylaise stated, crossing her arms, “Fen’harel is right; he’s people are soon to be hers. She has every right to know what may happen to them in the months to come.”  
“And if we make an exception for every lover we take on this room would be filled.” Andruil waved off, Falon’din hissing as he glared over at her.  
“Speak for yourself Virelan Era’vun,” Mythal hissed, Andruil’s comment getting under her skin, “I do agree that Faelwen should know what is going on; it’s both of their soldiers that will be marching on the Forgotten Ones when the time comes.”  
Shaking as she looked between Falon’din and Solas she had no idea what to say. Was she really about to be in the middle of one of their war meetings? Moving slowly she stood next to Solas, staring at the map as she felt eyes on her. Eight pairs of eyes to be exact. Tensing as she moved his papers, looking over them she wondered why they weren’t talking at all. It was Solas who broke the silence, moving to stand closer to her.  
“I still don't agree with Elgar’nan’s crazy idea. A single weapon will not destroy the Forgotten Ones. I think we should come to a truce. More of our people will die if we go after them near the void again.”  
“Not true,” Andruil argued, a crazy look in her eyes as she slammed her hands against the table, “I’ve seen the void just as you have, Lethalin. We can strike them there. As long as one of us has the Venuralas Dala, we can take them down.”  
“You assume such a thing in real.” June hissed at her, glaring, “has the void made you daft?”  
“We don’t know,” Sylaise argued, nudging her husband as she sighed, “you may not have made it, Vhenan, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist; the Forgotten Ones have been around just as long as the Elvhen.”  
“We can argue this all day, but unless we get results it won’t matter,” Falon’din sighed, “We need to strike them when they are above ground.”  
“Are you saying keep us weak and unprepared until they strike?” Elgar’nan shouted, looking more upset than anyone at the table.  
“No,” Faelwen spoke up, causing everyone to pause their argument as they looked over at her, “Andruil, Solas, you have been to the void, yes? There has to be a way to lure them out- set a trap for them to walk into. Let them think we aren’t prepared.”  
“And kill them with what?” Dirthamen smiled at her, his hand at his chin as he looked at her thoughtfully, “Everything we have tried hasn’t worked.”  
“That’s because you aren’t looking at it from a different angle,” She mused, moving a couple things out of her way on the map, “You have tried brute force, but have you ever tried trapping them in a summoning circle? If you can do that, Falon’din or I can do something to kill them.”  
“Blood magic.” Elgar’nan hissed as Falon’din shook his head.  
“No, life magic. You take years off of your own life, and the plant life around you if you really need it. It doesn’t take a full life, but it is stronger than blood magic.”  
“I could stop the time,” she mused, smiling down at the map, “Keep it so that we’re the only ones dealing with the God coming out of the void. If we can leave it to the strongest among the elves to wrangle them in… we might just be able to pull it off.”  
“I don’t think it will work.” Elgar’nan sighed, crossing his arms, “You may be looking at this differently than us, but they have been around longer than us, contrary to the belief that is held at this table. That sword, the Venurala Dala was created by those before us to end them.”  
“Those are legends.” Dirthamen sighed, shaking his head, “Legends that you are obsessed with because you want that sword for yourself. I am not interested in giving you more power or letting us run off on your misadventures to find a Myth. We need results or our people are dead.”  
“I have to agree with Dirthamen,” Ghilan’nain sighed, “We need results, not myth and legend… we could try it her way just once.”  
“Are you serious?” Andruil asked, angrier than she was before, “You’re going to accept the advice of a failed commanding officer in the armies ranks?”  
“Not a failed officer,” Mythal corrected, “I pulled her from her work so that her and Solas could bond and she could be the advisor to him that every wife should be to their husbands.”  
“And we all see how well that worked.” Andruil shot back, glaring between Mythal, the god of Protection, and Faelwen she felt like hopping over the table and throttling the woman.  
Watching as Andruil shook her hair, her short red hair moving with it as she closed her eyes.  
“You are all daft. I will take care of this myself.”  
“Andruil,” Falon’din called out to her, almost a warning as she moved to leave the room, “Damn it, Andruil!” he called after her again before sighing and looking at his mother defeated.  
Where all their meetings like this? One of the Evanuris disagreeing and walking off in a tantrum? How did Solas deal with this? Looking down as she heard the other members walking out, their words hushed whispered. Yet she only heard seven pairs of feet leaving the room. Looking up from where she had stared off at the map she noticed Solas leaning on the desk next to her.  
“You really think trapping them and trying to use your own life to weaken them will work?”  
“It’s worth a try,” she sighed, looking back down, “It was how I took down the fear abomination on our borders. I used my own life to use magic strong enough to sap their own reserves and leave them defenseless, and then I used the magic I gathered to strip down defenses and crack his skull.”  
“That easy?” He asked, arms crossed as she shook her head.  
“No. Had I kept up what I was doing I would have died on that field versus just taking a couple years out of my life. If more than what I did that morning is needed, Hahren will have to face the God.”  
He hummed as he looked at her, making her feel uncomfortable as she looked back at him. What was he doing.  
“You came here for something else other than to interrupt my meeting, Faelwen,” He stated, his neutral almost friendly tone he had ket around the others disappearing slightly as he watched her, “Why did you come find me?”  
“I needed- no, wanted to apologize- for last night and this morning. I should have never taken my anger out on you. No matter how upset I am you don’t deserve that, Lethalin.”  
Admitting this and admitting she was wrong was like nails on a chalkboard to her. She never admitted defeat or that she was wrong, ever. Yet to do it now, as much as it mentally made her cringe, it didn’t make her feel ill like it usually did. It almost made her feel relief as she watched the strong, hard lines of his face soften as he offered her a smile.  
“I would like you show you something.”  
“Is this where I find out you’re an axe murder?” she teased, earning a laugh out of him as he shook his head, offering her his hand.  
“That is for me to know and you to find out, Lethalan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lethalan - blood sister, a term used for a female you are close to  
> Virelan Er'vun - slut, literally translates to walker of the dream  
> Lethalin - blood brother, a term used for a male you are close to  
> Venurala Dala - God Destroyer


	12. Arlathan Forest

Pausing as she stepped outside the Eluvian she smiled- her lungs filling with fresh air. Did he take her into a forest? She was pretty sure this was something that the murderer's out of every story she had ever read did, but part of her didn’t want to question it. After all if he wanted her dead he could have killed her in her sleep. Twice.  
Walking down the stone steps she felt the cold of the stone and the dirt squirming its way between her toes. Smiling she looked out, noticing the only path was in the water. Stepping out she gasped, shivering as she glared over her shoulder at the man who was following close behind her.  
“You like making me freeze to death, don’t you?”  
“It might be a new hobby of mine, yes.” He offered her a smile, moving into the water next to her as she listened to the waterfall that was a few yards up the stream from them, “Go that way. I have somewhere I want to show you.”  
“And you have to take me through a river to do that?”  
“Unless you want to spend four hours hiking, yes.”  
Shaking her head she started walking along side him, taking in the sights of the Ravine they were in. She could tell this wasn’t part of the Arbor Wilds; the colors were different. Yet it wasn’t the Korcari Wilds. Could they be? No. She knew he wouldn’t take her into The Arlathan Forest. Though it was named after their great city, it was sacred ground that the Elvhen left alone. Many a spirit resided in that forest; it was their sanctuary away from the human world that would use them for ill.  
Yet the further they walked the water swishing with their every step she couldn’t help but wonder. She could hear the whispers and see things moving that she had never seen before. The birds above staying out of the ravine- perched in their trees above watching them make their way down the stream.  
Moving her hand along the wall, her fingers brushing along vines she looked over at Solas.  
“This place is…”  
“Magical?” He asked, smiling at her as his chin rose slightly as they continued to walk, “I know. Arlathan has always been my favorite home- though the Frostback Basin has been more hospitable than I had expected.”  
“Wait,” She paused, squinting at him as she tilted her head, “You lived in the Arlathan Forest? When? How did the spirits not chase you out?”  
She watched as he tapped his nose, grinning as he left her behind and continued to walk. Groaning she followed him. This was when she chose to ignore him and not try to start a conversation as she took in more of the forest. The further down the river bank they got the more flowers came to life, blood lotus along the banks and vines running high along the walls. The trees overhead made it hard to see the sun, but gave enough light to let one see where they were going. Though of course Elvhen eyes were much like cats, and were able to see in the dark just like their eyes.  
That was when she started to notice the ravine disappear as they started to come to an outlet, the river coming out into a lake. Moving past Solas, jogging she smiled. He had this way of knowing where all the best places were- at least that was what she was coming to believe as she looked out over the crystal clear lake. The lake in the hinterlands was no match for the clarity she saw in the waters here. Unlike the Hinterlands, this lake had no plant life at the bottom to block the view. It was nothing put stones. Of course there weren’t as many fish, but the way the river ran off into the lake creating multiple waterfalls was perfect.  
Then there was the life around the water. Pausing as she saw the spirit of a child playing with a woman she smiled, tilting her head.  
“Mamea, Josa i em!” The child called, running along the shore of the lake, the spirit moving after him.  
It was strange to see them play together. This was almost proof that they weren’t much different from the people in a sense. Of course they had certain things they embodied, but they still played and loved like the Elvhen. It was like seeing everything she had ever been taught about the spirits they shared the world with was wrong.  
“Solas,” She whispered, moving to sit on a rock and watch as she smiled gently, “This is… it’s amazing.”  
“We aren’t so different from the Elvhen,” He mused, sitting down next to her, “I used to spend my days collecting the lost knowledge here before Falon’din found me. He was younger than- much younger… and Dirthamen was still always at his heel. They were so lively, yet it was always Falon’din who was interested in what I had to teach. A Strange parallel now that Dirthamen is name the God of Secrets and Falon’din the God of the Dead.  
“You said… we?” She asked, looking over at him, confused as ever.  
How would have Falon’din have found him out here? These lands were off limits as long as she could remember. Hell, Falon’din would tell her of the times his mother had to pull him away from the Eluvian that lead to that river passageway before he wasn’t allowed here. Yet there they were, sitting on a rock watching a mother play with her child.  
She assume the spirit was that of compassion, the child probably following in her footsteps. The only thing that pulled her mind away from those thoughts was Solas’s voice.  
“I was once a spirit of wisdom living in the forest. There was a cave we had past and that was where I prefered to stay- there within held so much knowledge… Lost tomes from when the Forgotten Ones were the main gods worshiped among the living. From back before this forest was declared sacred by your people.”  
“Wisdom?” She asked, not at all surprised as she looked back out at the lake.  
The books, the place Skyhold was… it should have never surprised her. He reminded her of the scholars of the colleges. Of the people who studied lost tomes and tried to understand and translate them into common language. The knowledge he held, and how level headed he was. She had assumed it had come from years of battle, which in a way could still be the case. Yet he had once been a spirit.  
“How did it happen?” She finally asked, turning towards him as she played with the hem of her shirt, “How did you become an Elf?”  
“Mythal,” He admitted, staring off at the water as she grabbed a rock, playing with it slightly before skipping it on the water, “Falon’din had come to visit me again- to hear the stories I had to offer of my journeys. He had no idea that Dirthamen had told Mythal of him coming out to these lands.”  
“I can imagine she was pissed.” Faelwen sighed, clenching her jaw as she wondered what Mythal would do upon hearing he brought her here. He was of course from the forest and probably welcome, but herself? Falon’din had told her the tales of Elvhen who had been made tranquil because they came here.  
“Arguably, yes, but not as badly as you would imagine,” He admitted, grabbing another rock as he smiled at the child who was looking up at them, “When she realized that I was willingly letting him stay, inviting him to come back she wasn’t as upset. Your people assume that we do not like the company- to share our knowledge and compassion.”  
She laughed slightly smiling. It wouldn’t surprise her if her people had overreacted to something and chose to stay away from the Spirits. They of course were Welcome within the halls and streets of Arlathan, and within the temples, but they had been taught from a young age to not go through the Eluvian in the center of Arlathan that lead to the forest. It was probably for the best so that nothing would get built within the forest.”  
“And she made you an Elf of the spot?”  
“Is that a serious question?” He asked, smirking at her, realizing she was actually asking, “No, she came with Falon’din to the forest many times and got to know me and hear the knowledge I offered before she gave me form- asking for my help. I do sometimes miss this life- the peacefulness of just searching for knowledge. I would accept this any day over having to deal with Elgar’nan.”  
“Wouldn’t we all?” She mused, scooting closer to him unconsciously as she smiled out over the lake, “I have to say I’m not to upset she gave you form.”  
“Oh?” He asked, smirking more so now, looking like a cat who was plotting, or about to push something off a table, “is that so, Lethalan?”  
“Hey, don’t make more out of that than there is. You aren’t have bad, alright? Doesn’t mean I’m head over heels like the idiots in Arlathan.”  
She watched as he moved to stand, chuckling to himself as he shook his head. Glaring at him she wondered what he was thinking about. Also why was he laughing at her? Standing up she nudged his elbow, glaring at him.  
“It’s nothing Lethalan. Come; I’ve more to show you before the day is over.”  
“There is more of this place you want to show me? You are almost making me jealous, Solas.”  
“Not the goal, but I can concur; it’s beautiful here. Now come on before I resign my fate and let Falon’din lead me to Uthenera.”  
Snorting she walked with him along a path that lead them back towards the ravine, but this time along the top near the trees. She wasn’t exactly sure why they were double back along the top of the ravine, but she wasn’t going to question it. The sight from the top was gorgeous.  
There was moss along the path, leaving only a small dirt trail for them to walk shoulder to shoulder along. The trees themselves stood taller than she would have expected having seen them from the ravine. They stood, reaching for the sky as small buddings of leafs grew at the tips. Moss followed up the bark of most trees, adding color to this burnt amber tones. Smiling to herself as she looked at the trees she wondered how long most of them had been there- how much they had weathered. There was something in the forest that whispered it age the deeper in they got.  
It didn’t help how happy Solas seemed to be here. It made her want to stay longer- to never leave. There was something about seeing him happy that made her happy, though that was a thought she would never admit out loud. Yet he seemed to understand she felt that way as they walked, snaking her arm through his as he looked out towards the horizon that was peaking through.  
As the walked deeper into the forest, apparently heading to his favorite grove, he told her all the stories he could think of. During his time as a spirit or otherwise. There was one that stuck with her, about a spirit that observed a village and the girls within who dreamt of love. Helping them find the right match. Creators she agreed those woman were lucky. After all there were people human, elf, or dwarf that still hadn’t found true love. Yet her absolute favorites were those of the ruins.  
The stories made her yearn to see them for herself. She had spent much of her youth with her father adventuring, much to her mother’s dismay. He wanted her to see the world as he had. It was a passion she had held onto over the years. As they walked it filled her with joy to have Solas promise her he would take her to see the world instead of leaving her to live within the Frostback basin. It was a strange to think that he was still so willing to try and make this work, to get her to see him more than the god everyone made him out to be. Yet she was liking what she was seeing.  
As they came near the borders she couldn’t help but have her heart sink at the sight before her. Her hand moved to her chest as smoke started to fill her lungs. Solas was swearing next to her, moving to use magic to see what was going on further up, but she couldn’t wait for that. Not when there could be people on the border or spirits. What if some got trapped? Bolting off, Solas yelling after her she moved, dodging past trees until she rounded around a rock to see what was going on.  
Her hand rested against the moss covered rock as her eyes watered. Andruil hadn’t listened to a single word that was spoken during the meeting. Before her she could see the Elven people trying to keep not only the fire, but the fight out of the forest as one of the Forgotten Ones wrecked havoc. Andruil lured him out. The idea brought goosebumps to her skin. The spirits of the forest didn’t ask for this. The Elvhen didn’t ask for this.  
“Faelwen?” Solas asked, panting as he moved to stand next to her, tensing as he saw what she was seeing.  
“I have to stop it.” She stated, looking over the field, realizing it was Dirthamen’s men trying to evacuate the Elves in the small town that had come out this way and fight off the tainted creatures that were crawling out of the ground around them.  
“No you don’t.” He stated, grabbing her arm, “Please don’t do anything stupid, Faelwen.”  
“If Idon’t help them, who will?” She hissed back, forcing her words as she pulled her arm away, running into the thick of it. She know this was a terrible idea. After all she was running into this hell without a weapon.  
Moving her hands, reaching out as a glyph appeared on the ground, water started to form around her. She had to help these people, and stop the fire before it hit the forest. This was the home of so many spirits.. It was Solas’s home. She refused to just lett a tainted creature touch it.  
Forming the water around her she moved her hands, bending it and moving it over the fire before dropping it, shooting lighting at a creature who had attempted to go near one of Dirthamen’s soldiers. It looked as if it had caught something, a disease festering on its skin and its eyes void of light. Tensing at the sight she moved, creating more water with the glyph and helping the other soldiers to put out the fire. That was when she noticed Daern’thal.


	13. Daern’thal

Grinding her teeth, dropping the water she moved out of instinct. Of course she would hear Solas yelling at her to stop, but she didn't care to listen. He could help with the fire. Hell if he really felt the need he could help her with Dearn’thal. But if he wasn't going to help? She wasn't going to listen.  
Throwing a lightning strike as she moved, hitting his blade, she smirked. This pulled his attention away from Dirathmen’s men quickly as he turned and looked at her. Anyone watching would have though she had a death wish, and maybe she did. Right now all she cared about was getting people out safe. She meant it when she said she would give her life for the People.  
“You dare?” The voice that came from the man before her was rough, like someone who had smoked cigars all their life.  
Smirking she raised her hand, the lightning cracking from her hands with no target. Yes, she dared. Taking in his features and his armor she tried to find a weak point, the lighting cracking for her hand again as she rolled out of the way of his two-handed sword. Cussing to herself she had a feeling she would be dodging a lot until she came up with a game plan. That was until she noticed a sword in the battlefield behind the god.  
If she timed it just right…  
Glaring at Daern’thal she moved, a glyph appearing near him.  
“How do you feel about fire?” She chided, mocking him as the glyph quickly lite, exploding under him and forcing him to move.  
Sprinting quickly she moved, running along a rock and hopping off, rolling as she landed and grabbed the sword. A weapon was better than nothing. At least she hoped it would be better than nothing.  
As the hope crossed her mind he moved, swinging with enough force to break the blade, forcing her to stumble back. Taking a quick look at the blade she cursed everything holy, rolling out of the way of his next attack.  
The way he moved, slamming his sword into the ground, was slowing him down. If she could cage him in even just lighting she could, maybe, get the chance to take him down. If of course brute force would take him down. It seemed from the meeting they had had earlier that morning that hadn't worked.  
The next swing the god took she moved, fade walking through him and stopped behind him, resting her hand against his back. More lighting shot from her hand, going along his spine and spilling out around the god’s body as if he was a conductor. Pulling away she watching in horror as the skin that looked like it was about to fall off his body from the attack fell away- the skin where it had been healing as he gave her a bone chilling glare.  
Tensing, biting her lip she couldn’t find an opening, which was a first. It didn’t help she was having to be on the defensive due to the lack of armor and weapons that could hold up to his. That’s when it came to her. Grabbing a shield on the field she sprint towards him, blocking his moved before pushing him back, shoving the sharp ending of the shield down under his breast plate. It was only a moment later that he was throwing her into the rock face.  
As she landed on the ground, her vision fuzzy as she saw stairs, she could heard people screaming around her. She wasn’t exactly sure if it was her name or if they were yelling at the people of the city to get out. Either way she ignored them, biting her lip as she close her eyes and tried to focus on her own heart rate. If she didn’t get it to lower she couldn’t pull this off. Falon’din’s and Dirthamen’s techniques were meant for soldiers who knew how to face death with no fear.  
She was not exactly one of those soldiers no matter how much she wished to be. Yet even in her shaken up and shocked state she was still able to do it. A rift forming next to the god as time started to slow- bursts of green light and yellow coming through, the ground shaking around them as she glared at him. Daern’thal was the only thing she could see- the only thing she chose to see as she moved, the stone from the ground moving around her. She had to time it perfect- catch him before he could make a swing at her- before the earthquake she had caused stopped.  
The stone wrapped around her hand, the onyx and drakestone that were in the forest wrapping well up to her shoulder in thick layers before she threw it with all the force she could muster, hitting the god hard enough to knock him onto his back. Reaching for a sword she saw on the ground she moved quick, moving to strike him in the side where his breast plate wasn’t covering.  
Shoving the sword in as deep as she could she could vaguely hear the god screeching in pain below her. The damage she had been dealt earlier was affecting more than she expected as she stumbled back a hand moving to rub her temple as she tried to focus. Yet it wasn’t enough time. The god stood, the rift around him closing up when she could no longer keep focused enough to keep it open, and pulled the sword out of his side.  
“You assume I am mortal, Da’len.” Daern’thal laughed, moving towards her like a lion stalking its prey, “Ma emma harel.”  
“And you assume I care,” She hissed,licking her lips and tasting blood that she didn’t know was there, “Ar tu na’lin emma mi, Elvhen’alas.”  
Feeling light headed as she could hear the snapping of bones, the ground shaking and groaning as it broke open around her. If she wasn’t strong enough to face him on her own, she knew that she could at least put up a good fight until the people got out. That’s when she noticed a line of fire coming between them and the people Dirthamen’s soldiers were still trying to evacuate- Solas helping fend the creatures off and away from the people.  
“Ama ve o ash,” Dirthamen spoke, walking through the fire as it bent around him at his will, “Ar dy dala me.”  
“Ma elana esay, Lethalin.” Daern’thal laughed, swinging his sword and taking out a group of the undead as he approached them.  
Dirthamen moved next to her, reayding his staff as a glyph started to etch its place on the ground around them. This was when she chose to make her move. The people stood no chance if something happened to Dirthamen. He was one of the strongest mages she knew. If harm came to her, she knew in the end Solas and Dirthamen could handle Daern’thal. But she had to to give them the chance first.  
Using her own nails she cut the skin of her palm she let her own blood spill freely, stumbling slightly as she started to feel light headed- as if her world was spinning out of control. Yet through this feeling she could hear the screams that came from Daern’thal as he couldn’t move. His blood boiled under his skin as she whispered the incantation- her own heart slowing between the loss of blood and the blew her had given her to the head.  
She could picture the god now, screaming and writhing in pain, twitching and unable to move. Taking a step out of the glyph she offered the god a smile, smirking as she could feel her chest move as she laughed slightly.  
“Ma emma harel.” She muttered, moving forward again as a barrier came between her and Dirthamen, this being of her own doing, “Emma shem’nan.”  
Resting her hand against his forehead she offered him a smile, one so twisted and wicked not even she knew where it came from.  
“Bellanaris Dinan Heem; Ma banal las halamshir var vhen.” As she spoke these words her left hand started to glow, the blood on her hand moving the way she please as it burned a marking into his skin, causing the god to scream more as he lowered to his knees- his shrieks almost blood curdling.  
The mark she had bestowed upon his skin was the Mark of Death, a hex she knew would only last so long. Yet she knew it would last long enough for the last of their people, the soldiers, to get out alive. For she would see none of Dirthamen’s men die here for Andruil’s follies. They were Andruil’s alone, and if it took a death for them to see it, it would be her own. That much she was sure of as she pulled her hand away, coughing as she stumbled back and away from him.  
Her vision became more blurred, as if sand was running through her vision when she heard someone call her name. It was familiar, a voice she hadn’t heard since her training in the colleges. Taking one more step back she saw a man, tall in stature and thinner than most elves running towards them, bending the fire to reach where she was at. His voice reached her ears again, but she couldn’t understand a word he was saying, or see well enough to read his lips that were tanned from living in the deserts to the west.  
She couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing there- her vision going completely out as she felt her knees hit the ground.  
She had lost too much blood.  
The screaming grew louder, the sounds muffled as she tried to stand again, her vision coming in and out as she saw something glow in front of her. The sleek figure she had once known wrapped in it as he stepped in front of her. The curse he spoke to the god before them was in an old tongue, one not even she understood, as his form shifted in front of her. That's when the ground shook- the growl that came from his mouth that of the chosen shape.  
When had he learned such a thing?  
Her wonder fell on deaf ears as she could hear the rage coming out of him- his thundering screech rendering most of those around the dragon he had transformed into stunned. Though Dirthamen and Solas were not affect, trying only to break down the barrier she had set and still had enough focus to keep up. She could see the shape of it, moving its front legs into the air and stamping down at where she assumed the god was, blowing fire- the heat blowing back onto her as she took a breath. Tasting the blood that coated her throat she finally stood, moving forward enough to collapse against one of the dragons hind legs, her own words not audible to her as she begged him to stop.  
This was the last thing she remembered seeing or really hearing, other than people calling her name as she fell to the ground.   
“Ma da’len,” She could hear a voice chuckle, smooth as honey to her ears as she felt her body move slightly, “Ma elana’t erathe mala.”  
“Papae?”  
She knew his voice from anywhere. Though she was surprised in a way to hear it now. After all Uthenera was described as the eternal sleep, and no one had ever really spoken as to if they would be able to see their loved ones. It was always a possibility. Yet not even Falon’din would comfort the Elvhen enough to tell them that their loved ones would be waiting for them during this sleep.  
“Theneras, emma’asha, ma da’vhenan.”  
His voice was now pleading with her. Though the pleading came to deaf ears as she smiled. The thought of being able to see her father again was… tempting to say the least. She had never even considered it when she had rushed in bullheaded into the fight. All she thought about were the lives that needed to be saved- the people that needed to be helped.  
“Sathan theneras, ma da’len.”  
The voice she heard this time was much louder and she knew it was no longer her father's. She tried to cling to the calm, the peace that she was feeling wherever she was at now, but she knew it would not last long. Not with the last voice she heard being her hahren’s. He after all was the God of the Dead, and with Sylaise’s help, she knew he could have her healed and awake in no time.  
Yet as she thought of this the voices that were around her were dimming. She could hear what she thought was an argument. Her old friend, Pahon’s voice nearby in the middle of the arguments. Than soon it went quiet. Her body aching as she came to- screaming at her not to move. Ignoring this she moved to sit up, groaning as she clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. The tears forming much against her will as she gasped for air, panting as she opened her eyes and looked around.  
She was back within skyhold in Solas’s room. Around her were eight empty chairs, where she assumed members of the Evanuris and her friend had sat arguing while she lay dying. Nearby on a table by the stairs Faelwen could see Sylaise’s things. A bag of herbs and the bowl to mix them. There were also tools for stitching wounds and pulling things out. Looking down at her hand she could see the stitches that Sylaise had made to help her hand heal faster.  
How had she survive that long enough for them to get her back to Skyhold?  
Faelwen was sure she had lost too much blood to be able to live through that experience. Much less live long enough for them to take her off the battlefield. Rubbing her temples she closed her eyes- the rest of her senses trying to come back to life.   
Ears twitching she opened her eyes, looking towards the stairs. Somewhere down below she could hear people screaming. Arguing she assumed. After all Andruil had not listened to a single word any of them had said and stormed off to work of her own accord. She knew for a fact it was Andruil who got Daern’thal out of the void. Her hahren’s brother wasn’t crazy enough to trick a Forgotten One, a god of old, to come out of the void. Whereas their gods, the Elves of the Pantheon, represented all that was good in this world… the Forgotten Ones were the chaos- the hate in the world. They were the things that people swept under the rug and pretended didn't exist.  
Moving, much at her bodies protest, she got out of the bed, cleaning herself of the blood stains on her skin with the bowl of water nearby. She didn’t want blood to get on the clothes she was about to steal from Solas. Grabbing the wrappings nearby she wrapped her hand and her chest carefully. She was sure there had to be a broken rib or two after the hit she had taken against the rock.  
As she thought of the fight she shivered, frowning as she gingerly pulled one of Solas’s shirts over her thin frame. Her own pants were still on, which she was grateful for; she had no idea where he had put his belt after she had thrown it at him yesterday. Sighing as she walked away from his bed and through the maze of chairs she stood at the base of the stairs, looking down. She knew she should be in the bed, but if they were fighting over Andruil’s actions, she needed to be there.  
This reason alone was why she reluctantly, with all the grace someone with a limp could manage, walked down the stairs. Her hand brushing against the banister to help keep her balanced as she made her way down to see what in the creators names was going on downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uthenera - Elven after life  
> Ma emma harel - you should fear me  
> Ar tu na’lin emma mi- i will see your blood on my blade  
> Elvhen’alas - dirt elves (insult)  
> Ama ve o ash - stay away from her  
> Ar dy dala me - I will kill you  
> Ma elana esay, Lethalin - you can try, friend  
> Emma shem'nan - my revenge is swift.  
> Bellanaris Dinan Heem; Ma banal las halamshir var vhen.- I’ll make you dead; you do nothing to further our people.  
> ma da'len - my child  
> ma elana't erathe mala - you can't sleep now  
> Theneras, emma’asha, ma da’vhenan - wake up, my girl, my little heart  
> Sathan theneras, ma da’len - please wake up, little one


End file.
